Learning Curve
by FreelyBeYourself
Summary: After the Hood attacks, many things change around the Tracy household - perhaps the most important of which being the way the family views its youngest member. Only character listed is Alan, but it includes the whole family.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: First Thunderbirds fic. Based on the 2004 movie because it was easier to write to that than to the series. I'm not sure if this will be one chapter or more. If there are any editing mistakes they are mine alone and I apologize. **

**Note: This starts off from the perspective of a dream Alan is having (hence the italics), but that very quickly ends and the story moves to reality (which is **_**not **_**in italics). **

**Warning: There is literally about one curse word in here. Only one. I'm not fond of bad language, myself, which is why I'm posting this warning. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing at all related to the Thunderbirds. I claim no rights to it and I am only writing this for fun, not for profit. **

"_What's the matter, Sprout?" Gordon asked, his voice mocking, teasing, antagonizing. Above his head he held a school report card – _Alan's_ school report card. How he'd gotten it was beyond the younger boy, but it hardly mattered. "Dad ground you again for failing history?" _

"_Gordon, give me that," Alan demanded, beginning to feel truly aggravated. _

"_Just let me look at it, Sprout!" Gordon, still holding the paper out of Alan's reach, opened it and began reading through Alan's grades. The younger teen deflated, feeling oddly violated. "Wow, kiddo! You actually managed to pass everything this quarter! Dad's gonna be surprised!" _

"_Gordon, you asshole!" Alan chose the wrong moment to speak, however, as his father walked into the room. _

"_ALAN TRACY!" the man hollered. "Do NOT talk like that in this house!" _

"_Sorry, dad," the blonde began, but his apology was tossed aside. _

"_Don't 'sorry' me, Alan! Grow up! You say you want to be a Thunderbird? Then act like it! You know why we haven't let you train yet? Because you're not ready. You're not mature enough. Act your age." Jefferson Tracy stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him as he went. Alan glanced at his brother; Gordon, for his part, was rolling around on the sofa, holding his sides as he shook with silent laughter. Eyes filling with angry tears, Alan turned and bolted from the room, not caring enough anymore about his report card to grab it from where Gordon had abandoned it on the floor. _

_As Alan retreated up the stairs and locked himself in his room, not allowing tears to spill over, he repeated his father's words over and over. "You're not mature enough. Act your age. You're not mature enough. Act your age." Tortured beyond belief by his family's apparent disappointment, Alan fell onto his bed and stared into space, willing himself not to think. _

Alan Shepherd Tracy woke up with a start, dismayed to feel the hot moisture of tears rolling drop by drop down his face. He'd hoped that with the stress of dealing with the Hood the previous day, he would've been too tired to have any nightmares. Unfortunately he'd been mistaken. He really should've realized by now that his life never worked like that. The teenager spent another twenty seconds lying still in his bed, trying to get back to sleep, before he decided it was a hopeless venture. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the Hood's bright red gaze burning a hole in his own.

Pushing himself slowly into a sitting position (and wincing more than a few times when his sore, painful side reminded him of the previous days' events) the youngest Tracy son brushed the last traces of tears from his face. It would do no good to let his brothers see him like this; they'd only use it to mock him even more than they already did. Alan rose to his feet, taking in a slow and painful breath. He really should get Virgil or Brains to take an x-ray of his ribs…

That thought brought an uncomfortable reminder of the last time he'd gotten hurt, though, and how his brothers had smothered him with brotherly concern one day only to turn around and mock him for his "clumsiness" the next. Okay; no talking to Virgil or Brains. Decision made. He'd deal with it in silence.

Alan had hoped that his actions during the Hood's attack would have been enough to at least make his brothers proud of him. He'd hoped that they would've laid off on the teasing, at least for a while. He'd hoped that maybe they'd finally see him as an equal, as someone who could be trusted. Unfortunately he'd realized the error of this line of thinking almost as soon as the family had gotten back to Tracy Island. John had been taken to the infirmary, and in the frenzy of worry over John, everyone had completely ignored Alan. Only when John had been deemed more or less alive had anyone spared a thought for the youngest Tracy, and even then it had only been to lecture him on the necessity of following orders and the benefits of looking before leaping.

Stepping out into the hallway of the very large villa, Alan glanced around with an almost paranoid expression. Seeing no one and not spying any suspicious items or potential booby traps, the blonde made his way, catlike, down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He hadn't thought to check the time before he'd left his room, but it was light enough out to be just after dawn. He hoped he wouldn't wake anyone up.

Onaha appeared in the kitchen. Alan froze as the woman startled him, momentarily thinking that she was the Hood or one of his minions.

"Good morning, Alan," the motherly woman smiled, getting to work on breakfast, and Alan pondered the theory that she had some sort of sixth sense when it came to one of the Tracy boys being up and about and ravenously hungry.

"Let me help you, Onaha," he offered, only to be waved off by the Malaysian woman.

"No, dear, don't be silly. Sit down. You look exhausted." Alan didn't comment, but he did as the woman commanded and sat in his accustomed spot at the table. The woman continued, looking Alan up and down. "What do they feed you at that school, boy? You're thin as a rail."

"Well, the food's not nearly as good as yours," Alan sighed, shrugging. The woman smiled softly, finishing the bacon and heaping more scrambled eggs than Alan could possibly eat onto a plate.

"Thanks!" The teen dug in immediately, though he found that wolfing down his food like he usually did was uncomfortable. He settled for eating more slowly so that he was able to take slower, deeper breaths. His side was really bothering him.

"Alan!" a deep voice called fondly. He turned to see his father walking into the kitchen. The man gave Onaha a kiss on the cheek as she handed him a plate identical to Alan's. "You're up early today, son." Jeff watched his youngest closely as the blonde shrugged. Alan, for his part, suddenly felt the need to get out of the room as soon as possible. He scarfed down the last of his food, took a moment to catch his breath, and then stood.

"I wasn't very tired, dad." Then, louder, "Thanks for the breakfast, Onaha!" Not waiting for either adult to reply, Alan briskly walked out towards the swimming pool. Kyrano had already cleaned up all of the glass and put the furniture back where it belonged, but it wasn't likely that anyone in the Tracy household would forget what had happened here any time soon. Alan shuddered to think of what had almost happened to his brothers, and had to remind himself that they were all safe and sound in their rooms, sleeping.

Walking aimlessly, lost in his thoughts, Alan walked along the beach. He didn't notice where he was going until he got there, and it was with an unpleasant mental jerk that he realized where he was: he was standing in the exact spot he'd been standing yesterday when the Hood's submarine had emerged. A shiver ran down the blonde's spine as he remembered the Hood's deadly voice in his ear. _Open the door, Alan._

Forcing himself to remain still, Alan closed his eyes as he mentally relived the fruitless chase around the island. His stupidity and arrogance had almost gotten himself, Fermat, and Tintin killed, and that wasn't something he could easily forgive. Sure, it had all turned out okay, but it almost hadn't. No wonder his brothers didn't want him on their team. He was useless.

The oppressive feeling of being watched brought Alan back to his senses, and his eyes nervously scanned the horizon for any trace of the sub. Was it still out there, circling the island, spying on him? Maybe he should tell his brothers… but no, they'd only laugh at him, tell him it was impossible that the sub was still there. Unable to stand the prickling hairs on the back of his neck or the way every sound in the jungle seemed dangerous and a hundred times louder than usual, the teen turned on his heel and bolted, running at a dead sprint back to the villa – back to safety.

By the time he got there he was wheezing, gulping for air, clutching his side in agony as his ribs protested the movement of his lungs. He made it as far as the pool before it occurred to him that his brothers might be up; he really didn't want to deal with their lecturing today. A bird squawked somewhere above him and suddenly his brothers didn't seem like such a major threat anymore. Bursting through the patio doors and into the kitchen, Alan immediately doubled over and fought to catch his breath. He was safe inside; surely he was safe inside.

"Alan?" one of his brothers questioned. The worried tone instantly got Alan's back up. He knew what that particular tone usually meant: poking, prodding, questioning, and a whole lot of trouble over nothing. No way was he going to go to the infirmary to be babied by the smother hens.

"I'm fine," he snapped, still gulping in air. It took another thirty seconds for the teen to regain himself, and then he stood up straight and looked directly into ten pairs of eyes. Sighing inaudibly, he surveyed his family as he made a conscious effort not to show the pain he was feeling. Some, like Tintin, Fermat, Brains, his father, and Scott, were looking at him in concern. Others, namely Gordon and Virgil, seemed confused and a little surprised. John, Kyrano, and Onaha simply seemed pitying. It was these last three who made it so hard for Alan to fully enter the room and join his family; he didn't want anyone's pity, and he certainly didn't deserve it.

"Alan, are you alright?" It was Gordon who spoke, albeit hesitantly, as if afraid that Alan would snap. The question was reflected in every face at the table, and Alan, relaxing as he realized that there was no malicious intent, nodded.

"I'm fine, Gordon," he repeated. Slowly but surely the Tracy family and its friends turned back to their breakfast. Alan joined them, sitting in the only leftover space at the table between John and Virgil. Not paying attention to any of the ongoing conversations, Alan cringed every time someone let out a laugh or raised their voice in enthusiasm. He kept waiting to hear his name; surely his brothers would tease him today as they always did.

"Sprout!" Gordon's voice called, and Alan's heart sank. There it was.

"Yeah, Gords?" even to his own ears he sounded dull.

"Why the long face? It's spring break. It's not like you can start a fire in the dormitory or accidently blow up your laptop while you're here." The reminders of his latest boarding school misadventures – neither of which had been entirely his fault – made him flinch. The usual snickering from Gordon, Virgil, and Scott accompanied this latest quip at Alan's expense. The teen was forced to bite the inside of his cheek so that the irrational tears wouldn't show. He'd long ago stopped showing any outward hurt at his brothers' bullying.

"Yeah, Alan. You can't cause anything to go wrong around here, with the Thunderbirds here to make sure nothing gets out of hand." The mocking comment from Scott was meant to be light and teasing, and if it hadn't been so entirely out of character for Scott, Alan might have just brushed it off. As it was, the blonde took a deep breath to calm himself – hurting his ribs in the process – and ducked his head.

"That's enough, boys," Jeff said sharply, causing all five of his sons' heads to snap in his direction. Alan exchanged a look of gratitude with his father and then ducked his head again, trying not to be seen. The middle-aged man stood from the table and made his way to his office.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Virgil muttered when the sound of the door clicking shut could be heard throughout the villa.

"What do you think?" Tintin snapped, exasperated, sounding as though she'd been waiting to say so for a while. "You're horrible. You call yourselves big brothers, but you bully Alan day in and day out until he's got nothing left of himself –"

"Tintin," Alan interrupted softly, cutting off the end of that sentence. Then, rising from the table, avoiding the decidedly guilty looks of his older brothers, Alan made his way up the stairs and to his bedroom.

It wasn't long before there was a knock at his door.

"Alan?" It was Scott.

"What do you want, Scott?" The adolescent was not in the mood for more mocking, which is surely what he would get as soon as he opened the door.

"We need to talk to you," John called through the door.

"Why?" Alan called back in the same dull, empty, careful tone he'd used at the table.

"We have some things we need to clear up," Virgil explained.

"And we can't do it through the wall. We need to do it face to face." Alan wasn't sure that Gordon didn't have a trick up his sleeve, but quite frankly he wasn't in the mood to be alone, either. Thoughts of the Hood were beginning to intensify in his mind, now that he was in his room by himself, and even a fight with his brothers would be preferable to those glowing red eyes….

"Fine," he sighed, flopping onto his back on his unmade bed and staring up at the ceiling so that he didn't have to look at his brothers. They four older Tracy boys, all over eighteen now, entered the room quietly. Alan mused that he was really and truly the baby, at least in their eyes, and there was probably nothing he could ever do to change that opinion. It really wasn't fair; they'd always consider him the weakest link, even if they eventually did let him join International Rescue.

Virgil and John perched on the end of the bed. Alan ignored them at first, but their staring became too much for his weary, uneasy nerves and he lashed out.

"What are you looking at?" he demanded. "Stop that!"

"Alan," John sighed. "Have we really been bullying you?"

So taken aback was Alan by the question that for a brief moment his mouth flopped open and shut like a goldfish as he contemplated the answer. Finally, averting his eyes, he nodded. The collective guilty grimace that went around the room would've been funny if he hadn't been the topic of the conversation.

"Why didn't you say something, Sprout?" Scott asked from his position by the doorway, which he was apparently blocking in case Alan decided to make a run for it.

"How could I?" Alan asked, irked by the fact that Scott was blocking the door as well as by the fact that his brothers all seemed to think Alan was responsible for this problem. "It was always, 'What have you done now, Sprout?' Or, 'What did you blow up this time, Alan?' Or, my personal favorite, 'Did you fail _another_ class, Sprout?' And you'd laugh at me and I just… How could I tell you what you were doing to me, when you wouldn't even take me seriously enough to listen to what I had to say when I _wasn't _trying to criticize you?" There was a short pause. "I'm not strong like you, Scott. I'm not smart like John. I'm not clever like Virgil. I'm not perfect like Gordon. I'm never going to get a PhD or an MD or fly to the moon or win an Olympic medal. I'll never write a book. I'm just Alan Tracy. I'm a waste of space."

To his intense embarrassment, his tear ducts chose that moment to betray him. Years of pent up frustration and anger broke through. Alan rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillows as he cried. He couldn't even get this right. He was finally getting a chance to tell his brothers how much they'd hurt him, and he'd burst into tears like a baby and proved them right.

"Alan, I'm really sorry," Gordon spoke after a pause. "I didn't mean… If I'd known I was hurting you that much, I'd never have teased you like that. I'm sorry, kid."

"That goes for all of us," Virgil piped up. Head still buried in the pillows, Alan nodded, accepting the apology.

"Things will be different from now on, Alan," Scott promised. "We were in the wrong. I'm sorry it took an attack on our family to show us that, but it's true. Forgive us?"

"Of course," Alan choked out. Sucking back a gasp of pain when he rolled onto his bad side, Alan looked at all of his brothers. They seemed truly sincere and he smiled.

"Alan," John started, and the youngest Tracy got the feeling that he wasn't going to like this new change of topic. "Are you… how are you? After yesterday, I mean." Alan froze, a grimace stuck on his face as he shook his head. He wasn't ready to go there yet.

"I was afraid of that," Virgil murmured.

"Is there anything we can do?" Gordon asked. Alan sighed.

"I just need time, Gordon."

"You can have all the time you need, Alan," Virgil said. "In the meantime, is there anything you need?"

Alan pondered that for a moment.

"I'm actually really tired," he admitted. "Um… nightmares. Would one of you please…."

"Stay with you?" Scott filled in with a soft smile. Alan flinched but nodded resolutely.

"Of course, Sprout," John agreed, and before Alan knew what had happened his bed was crammed full of his four adult brothers. He was left at the center of the group, where he knew he'd be protected while he slept. The Hood might still come back, nightmares would surely plague him for a long time to come, his ribs really hurt, and he still wasn't a Thunderbird, but for the time being, at least, he was safe.

Exhausted but content, the teenager fell asleep, surrounded by his brothers.

**That's all… for now. I'm honestly not sure if I'll add more chapters or not. It depends on the response I get to this. You'll have to let me know. I don't want to add more if more is not wanted, but I've left the ending in such a way that if enough readers want more I can always add on. I hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to review, as reviews are greatly appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated. If you do review, please let me know what you think: write more, or leave it as it is. Also, if you have a suggestion for a chapter, feel free to PM me or leave it in a review! Thanks! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Sincere thanks to everyone who's read, favorited, followed, and/or reviewed. This chapter takes place later on in the same day as the first chapter. **

**I did get a request from a Guest asking me to have Alan talk to Kyrano about the Hood's abilities as well as any mental abilities that Kyrano may have. I've included this in the chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own the Thunderbirds, and I'm sure no one would like it so much if I did. **

It was six o'clock on Tracy island – dinner time. Alan Tracy was sitting down near the pool watching his brothers play water volleyball when Onaha called them all to the table.

"Boys! Food!"

"Okay, Onaha, we'll be right there!" The call of food was not even enough to distract the boys from their volleyball game. Gordon and Scott were beating John and Virgil by two points, and the game was almost over.

"Let's go, Virge!" Alan cheered as his brother served the ball, letting out a whoop as Scott missed. "Yeah!"

"Hey!" Gordon protested, turning a glare on his only younger brother. "You're supposed to be rooting for Scott and me, not those two losers over there." Alan shrugged, eyes glinting in humor as Virgil splashed the water-obsessed Tracy.

"That was until you lost three points in a row," he explained, laughing when Virgil's next serve caught Gordon in the face.

"Boys!" Onaha's irritated voice called. "Dinner. Now!"

Heaving themselves from the pool with promises of completing their game later, the four oldest brothers hurried into the house, leaving Alan to follow along with a chuckle. Refreshed and relaxed after his six-hour nap earlier in the day, and feeling much closer to his brothers than he had in years, Alan let a content smile spread over his face. Surrounded by his brothers he'd had a peaceful, dreamless rest, and now he was in high spirits.

_Open the door, Alan. _

The teen recoiled as if he'd been slapped, freezing in his tracks halfway between the patio and the table where his family was already devouring their meal.

"Alan?" Scott asked, concern evident in his tone. Ever since this morning the oldest Tracy son had been keeping an annoyingly close guard over Alan, as if to make up for the mocking he'd subjected his youngest brother to. Alan was too happy with the newfound closeness of his siblings to complain, and for once in his life he even found himself feeling grateful that someone, at least, was watching him like a hawk. It was Scott's voice that pulled Alan back to reality.

"Sorry," Alan murmured. Making his way to the table and sitting once again between John and Virgil, Alan piled only enough food on his plate to satisfy the watching eyes of his family. He suddenly wasn't very hungry.

Tintin's gaze met his own for a brief moment before she quickly looked away, as if embarrassed or even afraid of what Alan's reaction might be. The boy frowned. Thinking back to the encounter with the Hood the day before (was it really only yesterday? It felt like a lifetime ago) Alan remembered Tintin's surprise upon discovering that the Hood was her uncle. Shifting his eyes towards Kyrano, Alan pondered the fact that he was the Hood's brother. Interesting. Maybe he'd know something about the Hood's mind control powers.

As if expecting the blonde's scrutiny, Kyrano glanced up at the teen. After a few seconds the man nodded once, and Alan took it as an invitation to talk to Kyrano about what had happened with the Hood. Not in front of his brothers, though. No way was he going to let Scott know that someone had tried to mess with his mind.

"Alan," Jeff Tracy's deep voice suddenly broke the silence. Alan turned to face his father, raising a questioning eyebrow when he registered the look of concern on the man's face. "Did you ever get down to the infirmary last night?" Alan flinched; he'd hoped to avoid this particular conversation.

"Um…" he thought about lying, but he knew that his father would merely turn to Brains or Virgil for confirmation and then he'd be in real trouble. "No, dad, I didn't." At his father's look, the teen hurried to clarify.

"Everyone was so worried about John," Alan spoke fast enough to trip over his words. "And then afterwards…"

"We all yelled at you for disobeying orders," his father sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. Alan nodded, though his father wasn't watching. The older man sighed again. "Alan, that was a mistake. We never should have yelled at you. You did everything you could have done. You made the judgment call you thought you needed to make, and it turned out to be the only one that would have worked. I'm proud of you, son."

Hell must have just frozen over. Alan waited a beat for his father or one of his brothers to shout "April Fools", but no one did. Glowing with some unidentified emotion, Alan smiled.

"Thanks, dad," he said. Then he thought about Tintin and Fermat and how he'd almost killed them. "But it wasn't me. It was Tintin and Fermat. Without them I would have failed." Jeff Tracy turned to smile at the other two teens.

"Fermat, Tintin, I'm proud of you both, as well." Jeff turned back to his son. "Alan, you did just as much as your friends did, and for that I thank you." There was an appreciative whoop from Gordon as Alan grinned wider.

"Dad, did Alan get hurt yesterday?" Scott inquired when the impromptu celebration of the teens' success had died down a bit. Instantly the mood in the room sobered, and every member of the household turned to stare at Alan and Jeff. Jeff shot a worried look at his youngest and nodded.

"Alan, why didn't you say something?" Virgil, the medic of the family, questioned critically.

"John…" Alan began, but was cut off by his only blonde sibling.

"Is fine," the second oldest Tracy brother said. "Therefore, you had no reason to stand in the background."

"Well," Alan defended himself, "It wasn't a big deal. It doesn't even hurt that much." That last part was only a tiny lie. Really.

"Alan, after we eat, go down to the infirmary with Virgil." Their father's tone of voice left no room for argument and Alan sighed, picking at the rest of his meal in silence while Virgil and Gordon finished their third helpings.

"Ready to get this over with, Alan?" Virgil asked as Onaha began clearing the table. Gordon disappeared out to the pool and John retreated to his room. Only Scott remained, flanking Virgil. Alan wasn't stupid; he knew there would be no escaping. Still, he couldn't help but try.

"Can it wait, Virge? I'm fine."

"No, it very well cannot wait," Scott answered for Virgil.

"Scott," Kyrano cut in softly, appearing at Alan's elbow and scaring him half to death. "I was wondering if I could borrow Alan for a moment." Scott and Virgil exchanged looks before Scott turned to the family's butler.

"Sure, Kyrano," he agreed hesitantly. "We'll be in the infirmary."

"I'll see to it that your brother arrives there," Kyrano answered. Alan turned to Kyrano as Scott and Virgil disappeared.

"Kyrano," he started, but wasn't sure where to go from there. He didn't want to offend the man by bringing up the Hood, but he really needed answers. Kyrano hummed and turned to look out the window.

"You want to know about my brother's powers," the butler guessed.

"Well…" Alan sighed. "Yeah."

"The Hood is dangerous," Kyrano began. "He can control the mind of almost anyone. He gets people to do his bidding whether they want to do it or not."

"Why couldn't he control my mind like he could with everyone else?" Alan asked the question that was burdening him the most. He shivered as he remembered the feeling of the Hood's power. The Hood had tried to take over his mind; Alan had felt it. Even though he knew what was happening, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"I suspect that's because he miscalculated, Alan," Kyrano sighed. "Desperate people are hard to control. You don't need telepathic powers to know that. You were desperate. Your family was in danger, your friends were in danger, and you were in danger. That's enough to make anyone feel like there's no hope, and yet it seems that when things are hopeless it makes us try all the harder."

"So you think he could control my mind if he wanted to?" Alan asked as goose bumps rose on his arms.

"I suspect so, yes, under normal circumstances," Kyrano agreed. "He can control almost everyone, as I said. He can control some people from far away, but most of the time he needs to be a fairly close distance away from his…victims. I believe that if the Hood had tried to control you before he endangered your family, or even if he tried to control you today, he'd be able to with less difficulty."

"Oh," Alan said faintly, sitting on the arm of the couch as he thought about this. Kyrano turned to face the teen.

"It's also possible that you are one of those rare people who cannot be touched by the Hood's mental powers; at least not to the extent of the average person."

Alan didn't answer for a while, but when he did it was to change the subject.

"Do you have those same powers?" he asked hesitantly. Kyrano's eyes slipped closed.

"No," he said. "It is a hereditary thing, and it has been in our family for many generations, though only a few receive it. I am, thankfully, not one of them. I had hoped that Tintin would not be burdened with the ability, either, but unfortunately that was not to be so." At this, Kryano almost glared at Alan, who shrank back from the man's gaze. "Alan, my Tintin feels that you will not want to maintain a friendship with her because of her powers. I ask that you reconsider this. The Hood is horrible, yes, but my Tintin is not. It isn't the powers that make the person. It's the person who makes the powers. Tintin will never use hers in the way the Hood has used his."

Taken aback, Alan jumped to his feet and hurriedly shook his head.

"Kyrano, I'd never think that about Tintin. I don't care what powers she has. I don't care about that at all. And I certainly know that she's nothing like the Hood. Anyone could see that. I never questioned her inner goodness, Kyrano. I promise." At this, Kyrano relaxed. There was silence for a few seconds.

"How do I make it go away, Kyrano?" Alan asked desperately. "I keep hearing his voice inside my head, like I did when he tried to control me. How do I make it stop?"

"To that, I have no answer," the butler shook his head. "It will fade with time, but I'm not aware of a way to speed up the process."

"Do you think…?" Alan swallowed. "Do you think he's still in my head, waiting to control me?"

"I do not know," Kyrano said after a weighted pause. "It is possible. However, I do not believe so. Distance is usually a key factor in these things. He had a hard time getting into your mind, Alan. It is likely that he cannot control you from long distances. The Hood is safely locked in a high-security prison somewhere in Europe. You should be safe."

Alan pondered that, feeling the anxious pounding of his heart. To the best of Kyrano's knowledge, Alan was safe – but there was doubt. As long as there was doubt, Alan knew that it would be a long, long time before he felt truly comfortable again.

"Thank you for your time, Kyrano," the teen finally nodded. "I guess I'd better go find my brothers now, before they come looking for me."

"It would be better for you to go to them than for them to have to seek you out," Kyrano agreed with a wry smile.

Alan made his way slowly toward the infirmary, casting a look at the butler following at his heels.

"I promised your brothers I would get you to the infirmary," Kyrano explained.

"I'm not going to run," Alan lied.

"Be that as it may, I made a promise," he said, though the expression on his face showed Alan that he hadn't fooled anyone.

With Kyrano following him there was no chance of avoiding the impending torture, so Alan resigned himself to his fate, picked up his pace to a normal walk, and in less time than he needed in order to prepare himself he was faced with the infirmary doors.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Kyrano nodded as he watched Alan sigh and step through the sliding door.

Scott and Virgil were sitting side by side on one of the beds, leaning over an electronic datapad. Both men looked up at the sound of the door sliding shut. There was a tense silence as the brothers surveyed each other; Alan watched Scott and Virgil warily, making his distaste for the current situation known in his body language.

"What did Kyrano want?" Scott asked, clearly trying to divert Alan's attention from the matter at hand in order to get him to relax. Alan, however, interpreted it as Scott trying to involve himself in Alan's personal business.

"Oh. That. Well, he just wanted to talk to me about something," Alan answered. He wasn't ready for his brothers to know about the Hood's mind control attempt. If they were going to find out, it would be on his terms, and not on theirs.

"Alan," Virgil sighed when Scott's attempted diversion didn't do a thing. "We can get this over with more quickly if you cooperate."

"I know," Alan stated, yet he made no effort to move. Out of all six total members of the Tracy family, Scott and Virgil were the most protective. That also tended to make them the bossiest of his brothers, especially when it came to Alan doing something that they thought would endanger his health. Together they made up what Alan, John, and Gordon referred to as the 'smother hens', and they seemed to be none too happy that Alan had neglected to tell them that he'd gotten hurt during the incident with the Hood.

"Alan, please?" Scott was making a visible effort not to become exasperated, but Alan knew a lecture was probably well on its way. Moving to stand in front of his brothers, Alan sighed.

"You could at least pretend to be patient, you know." The smother hens exchanged a look.

"Tell us where you're hurt, Alan, and let's just get this over with." Virgil, as always, was playing peacemaker.

"Ribs," Alan replied, taking off his shirt when Virgil gestured for him to do so. Both of his older brothers sucked in an audible breath and glared at him. Alan glanced down; the bruises covering his chest were truly spectacular. He'd never seen anything quite like it before.

"Alan, why didn't you tell us about this? Are you crazy? This could be serious!" Virgil began, leaving Scott to continue.

"Alan, you need to tell us about things like this! How can you expect us to trust you with…" A sudden tense, deadly silence filled the room.

"How can I expect you to trust me with the Thunderbirds, when I won't tell you when I'm hurt, right?" Alan filled in sarcastically as Scott swallowed and looked down at the floor. Virgil's eyes darted back and forth between the oldest and youngest brothers, trying to decide which one to intercede for first.

"Alan…"

"Forget it, Scott."

The silence dragged on and on until the tension reached an unbearable level. Still, Alan didn't give in, refusing to be the one to speak first.

"Alan," Scott finally sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, Scott, you're not sorry," Alan exploded. "You're not sorry. At least now I know what you're all thinking. Now I know that you all think I'm untrustworthy. Thanks for that. All these years I simply thought you didn't like me or you didn't want me on the team. That, I could have dealt with. I've spent so much time trying to prove that I can be on the team. I've spent so much time trying to get you to trust me to be on the team. And now I know. I'll never be on the team because you don't trust me despite what I've done. Well, fine. Whatever."

"Alan, that's not true," Scott argued, but Alan interrupted him.

"Of course it's true, Scott! You wouldn't have said it if it wasn't what you were thinking. I should've known your apology yesterday wasn't real."

"Alan," Virgil cut in. "Our apology was very real. You misunderstood what Scott's saying."

"Oh?" Alan questioned with a snort. "Sure. Well, then, explain it to me, because I'm clearly too stupid to understand."

"Virgil's not saying that, Al. Look. What I meant is, we go out on a lot of dangerous rescues. One of us is always getting knocked around. We have to be honest about it, Alan. Let's be honest here; you're usually the _opposite_ of honest when it comes to things like this." Scott's reasonable tone only fueled Alan's anger.

"Because you're always making fun of me! Remember the last time? Everyone called me clumsy and laughed at me even though I was really in a lot of pain and it wasn't even my fault. You never laugh at John or Gordon… why is it always me? Why should I even want to tell you anything, when you're always using it to lecture me, and tell me what a fool I've made of myself?" Alan took a deep breath and continued, "The truth is, I don't trust you not to make me feel like dirt."

"Alan…" Scott trailed off helplessly, exchanging another look with Virgil, and in that moment Alan knew that they knew that he was right.

"Alan, you're right," Virgil confirmed, regret coloring his tone. "You're absolutely right. We've been cruel to you. I can't speak for anyone else, but I'm making a promise to you right here and now: It will never happen again. But Scott's right, too, Al. In the field, I need to be able to trust you to tell me when something's wrong. I can't fix it if I don't know about it, and injuries in the field can be life threatening."

"Yeah, Virge. Okay… but everyone else will still make fun of me," Alan frowned.

"No, they won't," Scott disagreed, a dangerous glint in his eyes that, thankfully, was not aimed at Alan. "I'll make sure of that."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Not even Gordon will make fun of you over something like this."

"Okay," Alan said. There was no doubting the sincerity of his brothers' words, but only time would tell whether they'd be able to keep their promise. Conceding the point for now and hoping that this would never become an issue in the future, Alan relaxed his tense posture.

"So, Alan, what do you say we get those ribs x-rayed?" Virgil asked cheerfully. Alan rolled his eyes.

"How'd you do this, anyway, Sprout?" Scott asked curiously.

"Ah… the Hood threw me into a wall," Alan answered, pretending not to notice the way Scott's jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. Alan would not want to be the Hood if Scott ever got his hands on him.

A few x-rays and a lot of uncomfortable prodding later, Alan was left holding an ice pack over his bruised ribs as he watched his brothers finish their game of volleyball. To his glee Gordon and Scott lost, and after Alan and Gordon spent a few moments teasing each other (on equal footing this time, instead of the usual teasing) the family settled into the living room to watch the news together. Alan sat between the smother hens, trying to ignore the memory of red eyes and a compelling voice in his mind.

_Open the door, Alan. _

**Lil' beep: Thank you for reviewing. I had almost finished this chapter when I saw your review, and I agree with you. I didn't see how to fit anything more into the first chapter when I was writing it, so I wrote this chapter with a bit more tension, especially towards the end, and if the opportunity arises I'm going to add more in future chapters now that you've brought the issue to my attention. Thanks again. **

** Thanks, everyone, for reading. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome as always. I'll be writing at least another two or three chapters, but I've got some stuff coming up for the next week so I'm not sure when I'll have time to write a full chapter and post it. I'll try for tomorrow or Thursday, but if it doesn't happen, it may be as late as Sunday or Monday before I can update this. I'll try to do it before then, though. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the lovely reviews, favorites, and follows. I'm shocked and thrilled that I've gotten such a positive response to something I've written. **

** There is some mild cursing in this chapter. This chapter had a lot of ideas and not enough room to get them all developed, so the concepts I've left hanging WILL be addressed in the next chapter. **

** I don't own the Thunderbirds, and I never will. This is for fun, and not for profit. **

Alone with his thoughts as he ran down the beach, Alan was in a dark mood.

Three days had passed since the near-disaster on Thunderbird Five, and Alan was having a hard time convincing himself that his family was still with him, _alive. _He was sure that at any moment he'd turn around and see the Hood standing in his father's office, bent over Onaha's dead body or forcing Brains to activate Command and Control.

The first two days after the attack had, for Alan, passed as blurs. There hadn't been time to really feel the impact of what had happened. He'd been walking around on autopilot, too filled with adrenaline to do anything but move, move, _move,_ not bothering to stop and think. His brothers had been being nice to him and in his joy over finally being accepted as a _real _member of the family, he hadn't stopped to realize that his positive outlook was probably a bit unrealistic.

Now, though, things were different.

The entire Tracy family had been too relieved at being reunited to care about the many what-could-have-been scenarios. Now that the relief was starting to wear off and everyone was getting used to the idea of some semblance of safety, it was almost impossible not to doubt. Surely the outcome of the Hood's attack couldn't be this good. Life just didn't work like that. Where was the tragedy? Where was the grief? Why had fate decided to play nice with them? Though no one said it, the unspoken knowledge that Thunderbird Five should have by all rights burned up in the atmosphere, with not even the metaphorical black box surviving reentry, weighed heavily on everyone's mind.

When asked, Alan had answered his brothers and father that he was okay. Of course he was okay, he said; why wouldn't he be?

It was a lie.

To be fair, he hadn't known he was lying at the time. He was surrounded by family – a family where he finally, absolutely, unquestionably belonged. There was plenty of self-doubt; there was plenty of worry that his brothers would reject him. But surrounded by family as he was at the time, Alan had found it impossible to be anything _but_ okay. The mutual love and respect that was a tangible, palpable thing far outweighed any pain or fear or doubts.

But then the novelty of his family's love for him wore off.

Oh, sure, he still felt it, and it still floored him to know that he wasn't a rejected nobody after all. But now that he'd started to get used to the idea, it wasn't weighing on the forefront of his thoughts. It had only been two days, but he'd already started taking it for granted. Meaning that it wasn't enough anymore to take his mind off of what could have been.

He hadn't been on Thunderbird Five, but he had a very good imagination. It wasn't a pleasant scene that played in his mind as he watched the missile hit the satellite. He envisioned John, helplessly trapped, with not enough warning to say so before the space station jolted, stuttered, broke, and began shutting down. He could see John being thrown across the control room, slamming into the opposite wall, being burned by sparks from his dying 'Bird. He could see his father and remaining brothers taking off in 'Three, not giving a second thought to him, alone on the island – _and damn it, Alan, why do you always have to make it about you?_ – before getting their first look at the crippled spacecraft housing one of their own, surrounded by debris that was the station's lifeblood.

He could imagine the horror his father must be feeling in that moment: was John even alive? Did they race up here only to find that there was no one to rescue? He imagined that such thoughts must be stopped in their tracks before they could consume any desire, any need to go and find out and _fix it_. Alan could easily imagine the relief when John was indeed alive, but the relief didn't last long as Thunderbird Five, designed with redundant safety measures and reinforcements with the sole task of keeping its occupant alive, became a death trap.

Pushing his body to its limits, Alan ran as hard as he possibly could. He should have been faster. He should have been smarter. His family almost _died,_ and it was his fault. _He_ had almost died.

And no, he bloody well was _not_ okay.

Catching him off guard, Alan felt his wrist vibrate. Stopping in confusion he felt his wrist vibrate again, looking down with mild surprise at the new watch resting there. After the Hood's invasion, Jeff had left nothing to chance. Though he wasn't a Thunderbird, Alan had been given an International Rescue watch, complete with GPS locator, communications device, and all the typical International Rescue bells and whistles.

The watch lit up and vibrated again, Scott's image flashing across the watch face. Pushing a button, Alan held his wrist up to the level of his eyes so that he could talk to his brother.

"Yeah, Scott?"

"Alan, where are you? We've been trying to contact you for the past five minutes," Scott's voice accused. Alan raised an eyebrow in surprise; he hadn't even noticed.

"Sorry, Scott," he explained. "I got sort of lost in my thoughts."

"Apparently," Scott agreed. "Look, Alan, we're tracking a storm that's heading our way. It looks bad. You'll want to get back here within the next half hour."

Already turning and heading back the way he'd come, Alan broke into a jog. He had plenty of time to get back even at a walk, but he really hated thunderstorms and didn't want to take any chances.

"Thanks for the head's up, Scott."

"Sure. Now, Sprout, what were you so busy thinking about that you didn't notice your watch going off every five seconds?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Alan growled. There was a pause.

"Okay, Alan, you don't have to tell me now." Scott's tone made it clear that he _would_ be talking about it, though, and probably much sooner than he cared for. "Scott out." The face of the watch returned to normal and Alan dropped his arm to his side, picking up the pace of his run.

The problem with Scott, Alan decided, was that he just didn't understand. He had never had to watch his family respond to fires, earthquakes, or other catastrophes, knowing that he'd be left behind and that if anything happened he'd be unable to help. Scott had never spent long hours at boarding school watching the news, seeing a brother get injured, waiting for a reassuring phone call that would never come. Scott was always right there in the thick of the action, so he didn't know what it was like to be out of sight and out of mind, able to do nothing but pray that his brothers would come home safe.

Alan wondered whether his family would have even thought about him at all during the Hood fiasco if Fermat hadn't managed to establish contact with 'Five.

In his heart, he knew the answer was no. He was Alan Tracy, kid brother, not part of the team. Why should anyone think of him?

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth as he approached the villa where Gordon and Virgil were outside covering the pool and tying down lounge chairs. Looking up, he saw Scott out on his veranda collecting the chair, beach towel, and various other items he kept there on calm days.

"Alan," Gordon called in relief when he spotted the blonde. Virgil looked up with a smile at his youngest brother.

"We were worried," he admitted. Alan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn't so much that he didn't believe Virgil; it was more that, four days ago, Virgil never would have said anything in the first place. Now that everything had happened with the Hood, it was as if everyone was treating Alan like glass.

"You guys need any help?" he offered, but the pair had already finished their work.

"We're all set, Al," Virgil smiled. "Thanks, though." Together the three made their way into the house, closing the patio doors behind them. The action was one that was so rarely taken that it made all three of the Tracys shiver as a feeling of claustrophobia instantly settled over the room. Alan cast a nervous look out at the rapidly darkening sky. The storm was still a good twenty minutes away, Alan could tell, but the clouds looked ominous. He caught Gordon looking at him, feeling a blush creep up on his face when his older brother followed his gaze and promptly drew the thick, never-before-used curtains. Well, Alan, at least, had never seen the curtains drawn. It made him feel stupid and childish that his brothers didn't even think he was capable of dealing with a thunderstorm on his own.

Jeff and Scott Tracy chose that moment to come down the stairs.

"Did Alan get back yet?" Jeff called, only to look up and smile. "Oh. Hey, kiddo. Good. You're back. We were worried." It was the second time that someone had said that to him in less than five minutes, and Alan felt a burst of anger which he quickly forced back.

"Hey, dad," Scott spoke up, causing Jeff to pause in the act of going to the kitchen.

"Yeah, Scott?"

"I was thinking, just because 'Five is down doesn't mean we can't keep going with International Rescue. Sure, it'll take another six months to get her back online, but in the meantime we can share other satellites and get rescue calls that way."

"That would make a lot of sense," Virgil agreed, but the Tracy patriarch was already shaking his head slowly.

"Boys," he began, and then sighed. "I was waiting to tell you all this, but I guess the time is now. I'm taking International Rescue offline indefinitely." There was dead silence for exactly five seconds.

"WHAT?!" all five sons exclaimed at once, John having made his way silently into the living room behind his father.

"Dad!" Scott argued.

"We can't do that!" Gordon argued at the same time as Virgil shook his head incredulously.

"You can't be serious."

"Boys," Jeff hollered, getting their attention and putting an end to their protests. "I will not put my sons in danger again." With that, he turned and disappeared back up the stairs, and his office door slammed shut. Less than thirty seconds later footsteps could be heard approaching the top of the stairs. "Alan, I need to see you in my office," Jeff called, before moving once again to the very room every Tracy son hated.

"But… I didn't do anything," Alan, wide-eyed, whispered his confusion into the silent room as his older brothers turned to him with equally confused looks.

"Well, whatever it is, you'd better not keep him waiting," Gordon advised with a grimace. Keeping an angry Jeff Tracy waiting was a huge mistake, as everyone who knew the man was fully aware.

"Wish me luck," Alan muttered rhetorically, dejectedly walking up the stairs and just barely catching the unexpected whispered chorus of "good luck" that came from his older siblings.

It would be just his luck if his father had found another reason to ream him out. On a normal day lectures from his father were hard enough to bear; they would usually end in a loud fight, Alan getting grounded, and Alan running out of the house. Today, a lecture would be even worse. Alan was… he hated to use the word 'depressed', because he wasn't sure if that's what it was, but it was the closest thing he could think of. Spring Break was almost over and he'd have to go back to school, away from his family, and their newly-formed bonds would surely break. Alan wasn't ready to be cast out again. He wasn't ready to be the forgotten, unplanned member of the family who no one called on the phone. With those thoughts running through his head, he wasn't sure if he could sit through one of his father's speeches. And if it came down to it and Alan and his father did end up fighting, the impending storm made it impossible for Alan to go outside to blow off steam.

Alan didn't realized he'd arrived at his father's office until the Tracy patriarch himself called to him.

"Don't just stand out in the hall, son; come on in."

Entering the room and shutting the door behind him, Alan walked nervously up to his father's large desk. _Whatever he says_, Alan told himself, _I will _not_ lose my temper._ Jeff looked up at him, gesturing to the seat in front of it.

"Take a seat, Alan."

Well, that was… good? If Alan was in any trouble, he was almost a hundred percent sure that his father wouldn't have offered him a chair. He most certainly wouldn't have been polite about it, either, usually preferring just to get straight to the lecturing. Instead of saying anything, though, Jeff sat appraising his youngest son in silence.

"Dad," Alan asked, wincing when his voice shook. "What did I do?" Jeff's eyes widened at the question, and then he was shaking his head, holding his hands up in front of him, palms towards Alan, in a gesture that clearly negated Alan's statement.

"No, son, you're not in trouble," Jeff said firmly, and Alan instantly relaxed in his seat, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I guess it's been a long time since you've been in here just to talk, huh?" This was said with a rueful smile. Alan shrugged furtively, not trusting himself to speak without making a mess of the situation.

"The truth is, Alan," Jeff sighed, "I've been doing some thinking over the past few days. This thing with the Hood was tough. It was a new situation, something we've never dealt with before, and I'm really sorry you had to be in the middle of it." Alan tried to shake his head, but Jeff held up a hand. "Wait, let me finish. Alan, I may not like it, but you're growing up. But son, don't rush it. You'll get there in your own time, kiddo. Just be patient. I think there will be a lot of times over the next few years when you'll think you've grown up only to find out that you haven't. I don't think Scott's entirely there yet, and he's 25. Heck, Alan, sometimes I'm not even there yet, and I'm nearly twice Scott's age. There's no automatic age when you wake up one morning and say, 'Yeah, I'm an adult today.' It doesn't work like that. So don't try to rush it. In some ways, Alan, you're more mature than any of your brothers were at your age, but in others…"

"I just wish you all didn't see me as the baby of the family," Alan admitted before he could stop himself. "I wish you could see that I'm capable of taking care of myself."

Jeff's response was carefully worded. "When your mom died, you were the only thing we had left of her. You were her last gift to us. I think all of us, but I especially, wanted you to stay as your mom had left you. By protecting you, we were protecting your mother's last gift."

"But dad, I can't stay a kid forever," Alan said.

"No, son, you can't," Jeff agreed. "I think… until this thing with the Hood, none of us wanted to accept that reality. Now I can't help but wonder if we've realized it too late. I feel like I'm losing you, Alan."

Alan had to fight back tears. This was the closest his father had come to showing him any true love in a long time.

"You're not losing me, dad," Alan promised, though his voice cracked. "Not anymore."

"Not anymore," Jeff repeated with a self-deprecating sigh. "Maybe not. But I was. Alan… if the Hood hadn't attacked…" He didn't need to finish. Alan looked down at the floor self-consciously.

"I wish the answer to that was no," he murmured, "But to say that would be to tell a lie. If the Hood hadn't attacked this break would've gone like Christmas, and like last summer, and like last spring. And to be honest, it would've been the last time I tried. I was done after this."

Flinching at his son's answer, Jeff breathed out a quiet, "What have I done?"

"Dad…" Alan took a moment to collect himself, making sure his voice would stay even. "I'm not going to say everything's alright now. It's not. Far from it. But I forgive you, dad. I forgive all of you. I know you never meant to do any of the things you've done."

"That means a lot, Alan," Jeff said, though he still seemed dejected. "What would you have done, if this hadn't worked out?"

There was no hesitation in Alan's voice when he replied. "If Spring Break hadn't worked out like this, I would've gone back to school pretending everything was alright… and then I would have run away. It's too hard for the son of a billionaire to hide in this world, so… Dad, I don't know." But Alan did know, and he knew there was no way he could ever tell his father what he'd been planning.

Seeming to need a change of subject as much as Alan did, Jeff shot a look at his and Alan's matching watches.

"What took you so long to respond to Scott earlier?" Alan knew full well that his father had been in the room and had overheard that conversation; probably the whole family had.

"I was thinking about everything that happened," Alan sighed. "I was thinking about John and I was thinking about you… and I was thinking about always being the one who gets left behind."

"Oh, Alan," Jeff sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. I've never bothered to look at it from your perspective before. We never meant to leave you behind."

"And why not?" Alan was suddenly angry despite himself. "I was the mistake baby you never meant to have. I tied you all down. Why wouldn't you want to leave me behind?" He regretted speaking when his father's face fell into the most anguished expression Alan had ever seen.

"Is that what you think?" Jeff asked heavily. "Oh, kiddo… It's true that you weren't planned, but that doesn't make you a mistake."

"Yeah, right."

"Alan, listen to me," Jeff demanded gently. "I love you so much. We all do. We weren't expecting you, but nothing was complete until you arrived. You were like the one missing piece to the puzzle of our lives. You brightened everything up. You made us whole."

"Really?" Alan could hardly dare to believe it, but his father wasn't one for emotion-filled words, so it seemed more and more likely by the second that what he'd said was true.

Holding his son's gaze, Jeff smiled. "Really."

There was a pause in the conversation, in which both father and son were lost in thought.

"Do we have to tell Scott about this?" Alan asked after a moment.

"Hmm," Jeff thought. "Well, we don't have to, but you know he'll only bother you if you don't."

"Dad, can you tell him? Not everything. Just what he needs to know."

"Of course, Alan. Don't worry. I'll take care of it." Jeff winked, causing Alan to relax even more.

"I suppose this is us calling a truce?" Alan asked with a smile. Jeff nodded in agreement.

"I'm not saying we'll never fight," Jeff said. "I'm not saying I'll never yell at you or ground you. But you've proved yourself to me, Alan. You never should have had to, but..."

"I think I understand, dad," Alan said softly, and he meant it. No child should ever have to prove their worth to their parents, but Jeff had needed to have his eyes opened. Alan had done that. Now they could move on, and Alan would never have to prove himself again.

"I love you so much, son. I always have."

"I love you too, dad," Alan said.

"You asked me the other day what your mom was like."

"You said she was a lot like me."

"And she was," Jeff nodded. "But do you want to know why she was like you?"

Alan hesitated, thinking. The truth was he was itching to know the answer to that question, but he felt wrong asking his father to explain. Seeing his difficulty, Jeff smiled.

"She was always so stubborn," he said fondly. "But more than that, she was strong-willed and intelligent. She had a way of wrapping everyone around her finger. She was loving, thoughtful, and she had a heart of gold. There's nothing your mother wouldn't have done to help or protect you boys. Your mom was special, Alan, and you're exactly like her." Alan smiled, eyes coming to rest on a picture of his mother sitting on Jeff's desk. When he felt that he could safely look up without his father seeing the moisture in his eyes, the teen took a moment to look around the office. His gaze automatically sought out the mural of his brothers on the wall, and he knew that one day, when he was ready, he'd be pictured among them… if his father didn't shut down International Rescue.

As if he could read his son's mind, Jeff spoke up.

"What do you think?" There was no need for Jeff to clarify. Alan turned to face his father. Voice sounding a lot braver than he felt, he answered.

"Sir, respectfully… I think you're wrong. The Thunderbirds are part of you. My brothers have given up their lives and their careers in order to go out in dangerous situations and help others. I hate seeing them on rescues; the news cameras show everything in detail, and no one even bothers to call me afterwards, to tell me if everyone's okay. But… dad, International Rescue is who they _are_. I think if you take that away from them now, you're going to be taking away something that's become a major part of their personalities." Alan swallowed thickly, nervously, as his father surveyed him for a moment. Would Jeff take exception to his tone of voice? He needn't have worried; his father looked at the mural and spoke softly.

"I don't want them to feel like they don't have a choice," he said. "I want them to wear the uniform because they want to, not because of a grand vision I had."

"Why don't you let them choose, dad?" Alan proposed carefully. When his father looked at him questioningly, Alan pursed his lips in thought. "You do what you do because you want to. If my brothers don't want to, they should be able to choose not to do it. But if they do want to, no one should be able to take that away."

"You're saying I should ask them?" Jeff clarified. Alan nodded, and Jeff stared at the mural of his four oldest sons in silence. Leaving his father to his thoughts, Alan got up and left the office, and his footsteps were lighter than they'd been since the start of Spring Break.

"Everything okay, Sprout?" Scott asked hesitantly over the first rumbles of thunder as Alan made his way back down to where his brothers were still gathered. The four men watched him cautiously as if waiting for an outburst. Alan grinned.

"Yeah, Scott," he answered, flopping down on the sofa next to Gordon. The looks he received were comical, and Alan's grin grew wider.

"Okay," Scott answered, unsure what to say next. This was uncharted territory in the Tracy household. His brothers were clearly dying to know what had happened in the office, but Alan was curious to see how long they'd be able to stay silent. It took forty three seconds for Gordon to groan.

"Oh, come on, Al," he said. "You went into dad's office glum and you came out happy. No one ever comes out of dad's office happy. No one. Never. So, what happened?"

"Your brother and I came to an understanding," Jeff answered, coming down the stairs. "Didn't we, Alan?"

"That's right," Alan agreed smugly.

"Is your office still standing, dad?" Virgil asked, only half-joking. Jeff chuckled, and his chuckle turned into an all-out laugh. Alan snickered, too, causing Virgil, Scott, John, and Gordon to stare in wonder. Alan and their father had actually had a civil conversation.

"Ex-excuse me, Mr. Tracy," a young voice called, and the family turned to find Fermat standing in the hallway leading to the lab, the infirmary, and the Thunderbird silos.

"Yes, Fermat?" Jeff asked kindly. The boy took a step forward.

"M-my dad w-w-w-needs to s-s-talk to you."

"Is he in the lab?" Jeff asked.

"Yes," Fermat answered. Jeff nodded, smiling at Fermat and the others before heading off to find Brains. Alan waved Fermat over, and the loosely-formed circle of Tracy brothers expanded to include the honorary member of the family. Thunder cracked overhead, and the lights flickered off. The backup generator kicked in and soon the power was back on, but the storm was clearly a bad one.

"J-John," Fermat questioned, "Do you kn-know wh-wh-how long it will take to get Th-Thunderbird Five re-rep-fixed?" Fermat's question was innocent, but the effect it had was a negative one. Scott's face clouded over, John shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, and even Gordon looked disgusted.

"Dad's thinking about shutting down IR, Ferm," Alan told his best friend when none of his older brothers answered. Fermat's eyes widened.

"He can't!" the boy protested.

"I know, Fermat," Scott agreed with a sigh. "We'll just have to see where this goes from here."

If Alan knew his father (and it was entirely possible that he did not), he was pretty sure he knew where things were going to go from there. However, that would be up to his father to decide, and so he chose to keep his mouth shut for the time being.

The sudden brooding of the gathered family was put to an end when Jeff Tracy himself appeared in the living room.

"Boys," he said, and his tone wasn't that of a father. It was the tone of the Commander of International Rescue. All six boys reflexively stood up straighter. "We've got something that we need to talk about."

**Author's note: I now know exactly where this is going, and you can definitely count on at least four more chapters after this one. I know this cut off rather suddenly, but I felt it was a good place to stop. Like I said at the top, I know I left a lot of threads hanging. I'll clear up any loose ends in the next chapter. The next update will be tentatively set for some time Monday or Tuesday. Please review if you want to, and thanks for reading! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Special thanks to xXxAngel-With-A-ShotgunxXx for giving me some ideas for this chapter. Thanks also, to everyone, for the views, reviews, favorites, and follows. This chapter will also be followed up on in the next chapter. Any mistakes are mine and I apologize.**

**Disclaimer: I obviously own nothing to do with the Thunderbirds - nothing. I make no profit from this. **

_The sudden brooding of the gathered family was put to an end when Jeff Tracy himself appeared in the living room. _

_"Boys," he said, and his tone wasn't that of a father. It was the tone of the Commander of International Rescue. All six boys reflexively stood up straighter. "We've got something that we need to talk about." _

"What is it, dad?" Scott asked, slipping instantly into the role of field commander.

"You'll see." Then, seeing Alan and Fermat exchanging uncertain looks, Jeff nodded at them. "You, too, boys."

Jeff turned without another word, heading back down towards Brains' lab, clearly expecting the boys to follow. Scott led the way, and Alan watched his oldest brother as they walked. Having been in the air force, Scott was no stranger to tense situations requiring a very specific chain of command and order of operations. This man in front of Alan was no longer his brother, but a military leader. His walk was purposeful, his posture was straighter, and he had a no-nonsense air about him. Having never seen his brother behave like this before, Alan found himself sincerely hoping he never again ended up on Scott's bad side.

"Boys," Jeff said, breaking the somewhat tense silence as the group entered the lab. Alan noted, to his surprise, that Kyrano, Tintin, and Onaha were there, too, standing near the door. "Brains has just been looking over the island's defense systems. He's found something disturbing." The group turned to look at Brains for an explanation.

"Y-yes," he agreed. "I was lo-lo-reviewing the alarm systems from the t-time of the att-att-invasion. I w-wa-w-needed to det-see how the Hood carried out his…" Brains stopped and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Alan had noticed that both Brains and Fermat seemed to stutter more when they were feeling stress, which led Alan to believe that whatever Brains was trying to tell them was big.

"How _did _he manage to do it, Brains?" Scott asked.

"It seems, uh, Scott, that he tried to f-f-f-shoot Thunderbird Five down, and w-waited for us t-t-to be dis-distracted."

"But how did he get on the island?" John wondered aloud. Jeff sighed.

"He had a submarine waiting just outside of the range of our proximity alarms," he explained heavily. "It seems that when we all left the island, the Hood moved the submarine close enough to set off the island alarms and came ashore."

"You mean it was as simple as that?" Virgil asked, sounding bewildered. "We planned and planned and set up all sorts of alarms and cameras and observation equipment, and it was that easy to get through without us noticing that it was a trap?"

"Yes, V-Virgil," Brains didn't sound any more thrilled about the prospect than Virgil had. To know that all of their safety measures and precautions had been useless was clearly a huge burden on the scientist. Alan frowned. It wasn't Brains' fault that the Hood was a sick, revenge-obsessed lunatic. Alan knew, though, that Brains took it as a personal failure.

"Is the sub still out there?" Alan spoke up hesitantly, flinching when everyone turned to gaze at him. He knew it was probably a stupid question, one he should've asked much sooner, and he fully expected his brothers to start laughing at him. However, no one did, and soon everyone turned back to Brains.

"How about it, Brains?" Scott asked, sounding just as concerned as Alan felt. He was glad that someone, at least, didn't think he was a fool.

"That was my first con-con-c-worry, boys," Brains answered. "However, the sub is nowhere n-n-around the island. My h-h-guess is that s-someone onboard t-t-t-brought it back to where it came from."

"Why I called you all down here," Jeff said after a pause, turning to look at every occupant of the room in turn, "Is because when Brains was going over the data collected during the Hood's attack, he thought on a whim to review the island security footage." Alan felt himself go pale; he had a good idea where this was going, and he wasn't sure that he liked it.

"You mean we can watch how the Hood got onto the island, and find a way to prevent the same thing from happening in the future?" Gordon, always planning ahead, asked in interest.

"Somehow, Gords, I don't think that's what dad's getting at," John murmured, seeing the loaded look exchanged between Alan and Jeff.

"You're right, Gordon," Jeff said. "We can do that, and we will do that. But I actually meant…"

"You want us to see what happened to Alan that day," Scott realized. Alan shivered at the tone of his brother's voice.

"I haven't seen it, either," Jeff explained. "I think it would help us all understand Alan's perspective a little bit better."

"Have you seen it, Brains?" Virgil piped up, to which the scientist nodded.

"It's not pretty, V-Virgil."

Alan cringed; living through it once was hard enough. Having his family see how much he'd messed up was going to be even harder. He could only hope that the worst of his mistakes had been made in areas where there were no security cameras. Mentally he went through the list of areas under surveillance: most of the jungle, the top of the hill, the Thunderbird silos, some of the beaches, and Command and Control. (The Thunderbirds were always under the watch of security cameras, but Jeff's office wasn't – security cameras only activated whenever the office became Command and Control.)

"Alan?" Jeff called, breaking him out of his thoughts. Alan looked up at the man, doubt written all over his face. "I know you're not thrilled about us seeing this, Al." There was no question in Jeff's voice, and Alan wondered when his father had gotten so good at reading him. "But son, I really do think this is going to help us to understand you a little better. I think all of us here will agree that we don't know you as well as we really should."

Well, Alan couldn't deny that. Still, to have his entire family see how he'd reacted to the situation with the Hood would be embarrassing. Besides; everyone already thought of him as an incapable kid. Only in the past few days had their opinions been altered, however slightly. If his brothers saw how much he had messed up, would they go back to mocking him and treating him like he wasn't part of the team? Would his father yell at him some more?

"I don't know about this, dad," Alan hesitantly spoke. Jeff and the other Tracys held a silent conversation involving many quirks of the lips and raises of eyebrows. Finally Scott turned to Alan.

"Sprout, I think we need to do this," he said. Seeing Alan's uncertainty, Scott exchanged a look with their father.

"Alan, it's up to you," Jeff said. "I think this is something we really have to do, but you've got the final say on this one."

"Brains," Alan turned to the man who was like his second father. "What do you think?"

Alan could see Jeff trying to catch Brains' eye, but to the scientist's credit, he kept his gaze locked firmly on Alan's.

"I b-b-b-b….. They n-need to see it, Alan."

"Fermat?" Alan asked. After all, it wasn't just Alan who would have his mistakes bared to the entire population of Tracy island.

"M-my dad's a-already seen it, A-Alan," Fermat reminded him. Together the two boys turned to the third member of their team.

"Tintin?" Alan inquired, knowing that this would be the vote that would make the decision for him. It wasn't that Tintin's opinion mattered more than Brains' or Fermat's, but Alan knew that Tintin had the most to lose here. As far as Alan knew, none of his brothers were aware of Tintin's powers. If they watched the security films, that would change.

The girl looked at her parents. Neither of them tried to prod her one way or the other, but it was obvious that they were curious. Alan snuck a look at his brothers. They were all watching Tintin, waiting for her decision.

"I don't _want_ anyone to see it," Tintin sighed. "But they _need_ to see it."

Alan still wasn't sold on the idea of his brothers seeing him fail. He supposed that if everyone did go back to treating him like dirt, at least it couldn't be any worse than it had been before the Hood had attacked. Nothing could be worse than that.

"Alan?" Scott asked. Looking up at his brother, the teen sighed.

"Fine."

At Jeff's nod, Brains pressed a button. A large viewing screen descended from the ceiling, and Alan wondered why he'd never spent more time in the lab, getting to know the place. It was the only part of the island, other than the jungle, that he didn't know very well. Scott and John collected enough chairs for everyone while Brains busied himself with finding the beginning of the relevant security videos.

Seating himself between Fermat and Gordon as Tintin came over to sit by them, Alan leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes. He really wasn't ready for this.

"Someone should go make some popcorn," the prankster next to him stated suddenly. Opening his eyes to glare at Gordon, Alan noticed that everyone had already beaten him to it. "What?" the Olympic swimmer asked innocently. Noticing Scott's half angry, half you've-got-to-be-kidding-me expression, Alan snorted. The sound caused everyone to relax, and Alan realized that they'd been waiting for him to react to Gordon's comment as if it was an insult. Sighing, Alan made a mental note to sit down with his brothers and explain that there was a big difference between bullying and harmless teasing. Gordon grinned, winking at Alan. Alan smiled back.

"I've f-f-f-f… we can s-s-s-begin now," Brains said, nodding at Jeff. Taking one last look at his son, Jeff waited for Alan to meet his gaze before turning back to Brains.

"Go ahead, Brains."

The security feed gave a picture that was as clear as if it was real life, and Alan shivered as he watched himself standing alone on the beach, throwing rocks into the ocean. There was no sound on this particular camera, although he didn't take much comfort in that; a lot of the cameras _did_ have sound. It was only the ones in areas frequented by the occupants of the island that did not, in order to give everyone a bit more privacy. It wasn't often that Brains or anyone else reviewed the security footage, but in cases like this where it became necessary to do so, it was nice to know that your private conversations weren't being recorded.

Alan watched as his recorded self continued to launch rocks at the water. The security feed suddenly switched to Command and Control as Jeff, Scott, Virgil, and Gordon came bursting in, hurrying to their lift doors in order to get to John as fast as possible. The feed switched back to Alan, who was staring up at the sky with a pained, lost expression. In the background, Thunderbird Three could be seen leaving a streak of smoke across the sky.

In the present, Alan was now wearing the same expression on his face.

"Hold on, Brains," Scott called, and the scientist paused the video. Scott turned to face his youngest brother. "Alan, what was that look about?"

"It doesn't matter, Scott," Alan shook his head. Yeah; this was embarrassing. He knew it had been a bad idea to watch the security footage.

"It does, Alan," Scott insisted gently, and Alan recognized that tone: his brother would never rest until he discovered the truth.

"I was thinking about being left behind," Alan admitted, recognizing defeat. "I was thinking about all the missions you go on that I see on TV, and all the times I'm on the island and you all just take off. I'm never invited because I'm not good enough to be part of the team, but no one bothers to tell me how it went or give me a phone call afterwards to let me know that everyone's okay." There was a surprised, guilty silence amongst the Tracy family, while Brains, Kyrano, and Onaha sighed; none of them had thought to fill Alan in, either.

"Alan," Scott started, but Alan shook his head.

"Wait, Scott." To his surprise his brother shut up, watching as he tried to figure out a way to phrase his next thought.

"I know you think I'm some sort of dumb kid, and maybe that's true," Alan started. All of his brothers looked like they were about to argue, so he hurried to speak. "I'm smart enough to know, though, that Thunderbird Three is the only one meant for space missions. Whenever you take off in 'Three, there's only one place you're going: Thunderbird Five or some other satellite. I knew that it wasn't time for a scheduled supply run. The only thing I could think about was that something was wrong with John. I guess that turned out to be an understatement, huh?" Alan laughed humorlessly.

Fermat reached out and squeezed Alan's arm in support, a gesture for which Alan was immeasurably thankful.

"Have we really never called you on the phone after a rescue?" Gordon asked, sounding as if the idea that no one had talked to Alan after a mission was impossible.

"Never," Alan stated, perhaps a bit more harshly than he meant to do.

"Oh, Allie," Virgil frowned, looking once more at the paused image of Alan's sad face on the screen. "I guess we messed up more than we thought we did."

"Is that how you always feel, son?" Jeff asked quietly.

"Yeah," Alan stated, willing his voice not to shake. He felt pathetic. "I get that you can't always tell me you're going before you leave. I get that you can't always call me right after you get back. I get that. But the point is you_ never_ call me. When I get home from boarding school – where you sent me because I'm too much of a pain in the ass – all I want to do is find out what my family has been up to, but none of you ever want to tell me. You keep saying I'm not mature enough to be a Thunderbird, but you don't realize how much that hurts. You all get to do cool things. You get to save lives. More importantly, you get to be together, as a family. I'm shoved off to the side. I'm forgotten. And no one ever even thinks about calling me. I'm just Alan Tracy, sore loser who no one wants around."

"We'll talk about this later," Scott promised, and his eyes took in not only Alan, but his father and other brothers as well. "This is not something we can fix in thirty seconds." _Or in front of an audience,_ Alan filled in the gaps, silently thanking his brother for letting the subject drop for now.

On the viewing screen, the camera swiveled around as it sensed motion. Fermat appeared, quickly followed by Tintin. None of the watching family could read lips, but it wasn't hard to figure out the gist of what was being said. Alan, Fermat, and Tintin disappeared out of the camera's range, and the video feed changed to a view of Command and Control. It was immediately obvious to everyone that they'd missed something, and Brains stuttered his way through an explanation: he'd deactivated Command and Control when the intruder alert had sounded, but the Hood had taken over his mind and forced him to reactivate it. Jeff and his four oldest sons watched as the security cameras filmed Brains' end of the conversation going on between the Hood, and Thunderbird Five.

One of the security cameras sensed motion behind it. Turning, it revealed the three teenagers hiding in the vents above Jeff's office, looking like bats in a cave. Jeff barked out an amused laugh, offsetting the growing tension in the room. Over the cameras' audio, a sneeze could be heard. Everyone laughed this time as Brains quickly tried to cover for his son. When Fermat sneezed again, though, Brains couldn't hide the kids' presence. There were no security cameras in the vents, but Alan winced as he watched the Hood's henchman punch through the ceiling of Command and Control and grab what he knew to be Fermat's ankle.

Alan watched his family's reaction to the conversation in Command and Control as the crazy woman working for the Hood located the teens in Thunderbird Two's silo. Instantly the video feed switched, showing Fermat, Alan, and Tintin trying to get out of the silo as the doors closed. A camera faced upwards as it caught the movement of one of the lifts on its way down.

Everyone burst out laughing once again, sincere laughter this time, as the camera briefly showed the looks on Tintin's and Alan's faces when Fermat objected to the use of the Firefly and the Thunderizer to help them escape.

"So _that's_ what the mess was at the bottom of my elevator," Virgil's eyes narrowed accusingly at the teens, but it was obvious from the way his lips twitched that he wasn't truly upset. Then, "Fermat! What did you do to my baby?" Everyone knew that Virgil was very protective of Thunderbird 2.

"You'll s-see," Fermat laughed.

The light mood tensed up instantly when the Hood appeared, trying to take over Alan's mind.

"Alan!" the smother hens turned to face him simultaneously, and he sank in his seat in an effort to avoid their accusing stares.

"Why didn't you tell us about that?" Virgil demanded. Alan shrugged, saved from answering when the security recording once again caught everyone's attention. Everyone watched as the teens dropped down into the flame vents underneath Thunderbird One's impressive engines.

The sound of Thunderbird One firing was the only thing that could be heard. Alan shot a look at his brothers. Gordon's jaw had practically dropped to the floor, Virgil was staring at the screen unblinkingly, John had his eyes closed, and Scott was shaking in a very un-Scott-like manner. Alan knew his brother; Scott was most likely feeling guilty that it was _his_ 'Bird that had almost killed Alan. Jeff turned to look at the teens, his eyes blank.

There was a collective intake of breath when, after many moments of watching nothing but alternating shots of Command and Control and the silos, a camera mounted in the jungle caught sight of the kids once again, wringing water out of their clothes. There was no sound, but the smile exchanged between Alan, Fermat, and Tintin let the adults in the room know that they'd missed something worth seeing. No one commented, though, and sound suddenly cut back in as the security cameras within the jungle picked up their movement.

"You stole the guidance processor for Thunderbird Two?" Virgil asked in surprise, blinking at Fermat. The young boy nodded. "That's brilliant!" Glowing under the compliment, Fermat shrugged. Brains smiled at his only son.

"But then, how did the Hood get off the island?" Kyrano asked, confused.

"That's where everything breaks down and becomes a big mess," Alan confessed glumly.

"What could be a bigger mess than the way things already are?" Gordon asked seriously. Alan shook his head. His brother would find out the answer to that soon enough.

Kyrano and Onaha laughed out loud as Tintin pressed on through the jungle, many meters ahead of Fermat and Alan. Alan smiled, listening to the banter between himself and Fermat. There was another tense moment when Jeff spotted the scorpion on Alan's shoulder, followed by an even more tense moment when Tintin used her powers to get rid of it. Kyrano and Onaha looked around at everyone, clearly ready to intercede on their daughter's behalf if they needed to, but Virgil finally smiled.

"Well, Tintin," he said, "That's going to come in handy on some rescues, I'm sure."

"I'll say," Gordon agreed. "Remember the guy on that mission in Wisconsin when –" Scott slapped the back of Gordon's head to stop his reminiscing, and everyone relaxed. Tintin let out a relieved breath of air, and Alan smiled at her – she'd been accepted into the family, and nothing was going to change that.

On the large viewing screen, the Hood was trying to take off in Thunderbird Two. The machine failed to start up, causing the Hood to anger when he realized that one of the kids had the guidance processor.

"Uh oh," Scott muttered. "Things are about to get serious." Alan almost laughed, but there was really nothing funny about the situation.

Everyone leaned forward in their seats as Fermat tried to rig the satellite relay station to allow communication with Thunderbird Five. Fermat and Tintin winced sympathetically as they forcibly pulled Alan's retainer from his mouth.

"Sorry, Alan," Fermat sighed.

"Don't worry, Ferm. It worked out."

On screen, Alan shouted for his father as the connection was established with Thunderbird Five. Fermat hurried to try to give control of the station back to its occupants, but back in Command and Control, the insane woman was stopped in the middle of trying to take advantage of Brains as the computer announced an unauthorized transmission. Fermat had almost managed to complete his task when the transmission was jammed. Alan reacted with anger, but everyone could see that it was just a front. Underneath it all, he was just a boy, a boy who wanted nothing more than to prove to his family that he was worth something.

Watching himself on the screen, Alan shook his head and then buried his face in his hands. He had felt so useless, so pathetic. His father was counting on him to save the day, and he couldn't. He was going to fail. He always failed. He knew, of course, that everything had turned out fine, but if it hadn't it would've been entirely on his shoulders.

"Alan, none of us could have done any better," Gordon's words were meant just for Alan, although Alan knew that everyone could hear. "Fermat tried his best. You tried your best. That's all we could ask of you. I didn't see that before, but I do now. It's okay. We're all fine. You did everything you could, Sprout."

"I should've been smarter," Alan countered. "I should've been faster."

"Sprout, do you think we do what we do without any regrets?" Gordon asked. "Do you think we don't make mistakes?"

"Yes."

"No," Gordon stated. "Every mission is accompanied by regrets. When something goes wrong, even if it's not my fault, it's all I can focus on. I wonder what I could have done better; what I could have done to stop it. I'm not saying you made a mistake here, Al, but mistakes happen. We've all made them on a mission. I've made them more than anyone, probably. It's not fun to admit it and it's not fun to face the consequences, but at the end of the day it isn't the mistake that matters. It's how you learn from it that truly counts."

"You think so?" Alan asked, looking up at his brother. Gordon nodded.

"I know so," he answered. "And honestly, Sprout, I wouldn't trade it for the world – and that's even if I take into consideration all the regrets and mistakes."

Frowning as he considered that, Alan looked at his brothers and father. They were all looking his way, but none of them could seem to find anything to add to Gordon's assessment of the situation. Alan noted the thoughtful look on his father's face and flinched as he remembered that in a few days this may all be a moot point. Jeff still hadn't had time, Alan knew, to decide whether or not he was going to allow International Rescue to continue.

Brains resumed the security recording which Alan hadn't even noticed he'd paused, and the family watched as the teens ran from the Hood's friends. Tintin pulled her stunt with the bee's nest, leaving Gordon with a thoughtful expression.

"Don't even think about it," John told the prankster, a not-so-subtle threat in his tone. Gordon laughed, but the plotting look left his face.

Alan was beyond thankful when the exchange at the junkyard was not caught on film. In fact, all three teens were grateful; it was something that should stay between them. No one else needed to know about it. Apologies had been made, and everyone involved had moved on. Alan shot a _thank you_ at Brains, knowing full well that it had been the scientist's doing. The man nodded, a smile on his face as Alan and Fermat hugged lightly.

Unfortunately, the part where Tintin and Fermat were captured was _not_ omitted. No one said anything, but Alan knew what everyone was thinking: if the satellite relay station hadn't been a mistake, this most certainly had. Alan sighed quietly, but he resolved to take Gordon's advice. He wasn't going to let his mistake own his thoughts.

The video feed cut out, and Brains pushed a few buttons.

"Th-th-th…no one was in r-r-r-s-sight of a camera for a few mo-mo-mo… for a while," he explained as he worked.

"What happened in the meantime?" Jeff asked.

"They locked us in the freezer, Mr. Tracy," Kyrano explained. "They brought Tintin and Fermat, too, and then a few moments later Alan, Penelope, and Parker got locked in with us."

"The Hood used his powers to get the guidance processor from me," Alan sighed regretfully. "He tortured Lady P. and Parker, and I couldn't say no."

"And then Lady Penelope came up with a br-br-br-ingenious plan to get us out," Fermat went on.

"The H-Hood t-t-t-left in Thunderbird Two," Brains cut back in. "Th…that brings us to w-where we are now." He gestured to the screen, and everyone turned to watch.

In Command and Control, Fermat was desperately hacking into computer system after computer system. Finally he got through to Thunderbird Five, but no one answered the repeated calls sent by Alan and the others. It took forever for Jeff to wake up and follow the frantic instructions, and when Thunderbird Five was safe, the four older Tracy brothers whooped and cheered as Jeff granted Alan, Fermat, and Tintin permission to chase after the Hood in Thunderbird One.

"You've always wanted to say that, haven't you?" Scott laughed as Alan enthusiastically let out with an "FAB".

"Yup," Alan agreed, causing his brothers to laugh harder. The video feed cut out again.

"Th-that's it," Brains explained. "Y-y-you know everything else."

"Thank you, Brains," Jeff said, rising from his seat. "Boys, meet me in my office in ten." He left the lab then. Taking the hint, Kyrano, Brains, and Onaha followed.

"See you later, Alan," Fermat said, while Tintin and Alan exchanged a hug. Left alone with his four older brothers, Alan glanced around the room nervously, eyes automatically seeking out hiding places and ways to escape.

"We don't bite, Alan," Scott sighed, and Alan flinched. _Caught._

"Force of habit," Alan muttered. Now it was his brothers' turn to flinch. There was silence for a moment.

"Sprout, you haven't told me yet why you didn't answer me when I called to warn you about the storm," Scott said, clearly looking for something to talk about. Alan frowned. His dad had promised that he'd talk to Scott about it, but suddenly Alan found himself wanting to answer Scott for himself.

"I think you pretty much saw what I was thinking about when you watched the video of me standing alone on the beach," Alan answered. Scott's eyebrows furrowed.

"Alan," Virgil started, and Alan resisted the urge to sigh – of course the smother hens would start their smothering routine now. Gordon caught his annoyance and laughed out loud. As if he hadn't been interrupted, Virgil continued. "We never realized you felt that way. I mean, sure, we knew you wanted to join IR, but we didn't know how much it actually hurt you to be left behind."

"Yeah, Alan," Scott continued. "And I can't believe none of us ever called you after a rescue. I can't believe it. I mean, I know it's true, but I don't understand how we didn't notice before today."

"Because I was out of sight and out of mind," Alan answered.

"That's not true, Alan," John told him.

"Yeah, sure. If Fermat hadn't established contact with 'Five, would you have even thought about me at all?" Alan didn't realize he'd spoken his sarcastic thought aloud until Gordon cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Yes," Virgil answered, and there was no doubting his tone of voice. "The whole time we were up there, as soon as we realized we were going to die, I kept thinking, 'I hope Alan's okay. I hope the Sprout gets out of this okay.' It was the only thing that mattered to me, once I knew that I wasn't going to live."

"Oh," Alan said quietly. He hadn't been expecting that.

"You know you're part of the family, right?" John asked.

"Am I?" Alan questioned. "It doesn't feel like it."

"You are," Scott asserted. "We've done a horrible job of proving it to you, but you are. Do you realize how happy we get whenever you're supposed to come home for break?"

"You get happy when you know I'm going to start fights and get grounded and make your lives miserable?" Alan asked skeptically.

"No," Gordon said. "We get happy when our baby brother comes home and smiles and pesters us about the Thunderbirds. We get happy when there's renewed energy brought on by our Sprout. We get happy when you're here, and even when you cause fights and get grounded you never make our lives miserable."

"Alan," Scott said, "I bet you didn't know this, but ever since IR got started we've been waiting for you to join."

"You're joking."

"No, Sprout, it's true," Virgil said. "Ask dad. 'When Alan's ready', we always say, 'It'll be the coolest moment of our lives. The whole family will be together doing this thing, and it will finally be perfect.'"

"I don't believe you."

"It's true, Alan," John agreed. Alan didn't know what to think, but he wasn't sure he was quite ready to believe that yet.

"Don't worry, Alan," Scott said. "We'll prove it to you. It'll take time, but we'll prove it to you."

The Tracy brothers moved as one unit to their father's office, walking slowly, savoring the moment. No one was mad at anyone else, everyone was content, and Alan had a feeling that his brothers understood him a bit better, just as his father had thought they would. They still had a long way to go before the hurt of the past could be forgotten, but it was a good start. The foundations they'd built the morning after the Hood incident were being solidified.

"Alan, why didn't you want us to see the security footage?" John questioned as the group walked.

"I didn't want you to think any less of me than you already do," Alan answered quietly after a moment.

"Alan," Scott said forcefully. "We were wrong. We keep telling you that, and we'll keep telling you that until you believe it. We were wrong to bully you. We were wrong to keep you from the Thunderbirds. You want to know the truth? The truth is, we got so wrapped up in saving the world that we forgot how to be normal people. IR and family are supposed to be two different things, but the lines blurred. I'm sorry for that, Sprout."

"I know, Scott. I believe you. I've just been so used to thinking I'm nothing, for so long. It's hard to change that overnight. It's hard to believe you're all going to listen to me now, without shoving me to the side."

"We'll prove it to you," Scott repeated, and Alan could tell that he meant it.

"I keep thinking you're all going to disappear," Alan confessed softly. "I'm going to wake up and the Hood's going to be killing you all, and I'll be alone."

"We're not going anywhere," Virgil insisted.

"The Hood's in prison. He can't get you, Alan," Gordon assured.

"He's _the Hood,_ guys. He can always break out if he wants to. He controls minds."

"Yes, well," John ran a hand through his hair. "We'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it."

The group reached their father's office. Scott knocked lightly on the door as the five brothers entered the room. Jeff turned to face them with a smile.

"We have a lot we need to talk about," Jeff stated. "First on the list is the future of the Thunderbirds."

**To be continued…**

** This isn't my favorite ending to a chapter, but the next chapter will be better. Yeah, I know, I said I'd fill all the loose ends in one chapter. Well, next chapter, for sure. Next chapter includes the discussion about IR's future, a very self-doubting Alan, and the realization that, metaphorically, the war isn't always over when the fighting ends. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! Keep 'em coming! I've never really shown my writing to anyone outside of this site (I've only had this account for a few weeks) so I'm still new at this, and seeing all of your reviews and constructive criticism is amazingly helpful and uplifting. **

**I was having formatting difficulties with this chapter. My computer decided to go crazy on me. If it shows up wrong, I'll repost the chapter. **

**Warning: Alan (nearly) drowns in this chapter. Now, having never had any firsthand experience, I did some research on the subject when I wrote this, but I'm still not sure I wrote it right. If not, just pretend I did, please? Thanks! **

**I still don't own the Thunderbirds. **

_"We have a lot we need to talk about," Jeff stated. "First on the list is the future of the Thunderbirds." _

"I'll be in my room," Alan murmured softly. He was almost out the door when a hand clamped down on his arm, preventing him from going anywhere.

"Alan?" Scott prodded. The youngest Tracy shook his head, confused.

"You're talking about the Thunderbirds. In case you'd forgotten, Scott, I'm not a Thunderbird. I have no place here."

"We'll make an exception to the rule this time," Gordon stated firmly. Alan couldn't tell if the words were meant for him or for their father. Either way, Jeff was already rising from his chair before Gordon finished speaking. Alan watched nervously as his father approached him.

Putting his hands on his youngest son's arms, Jeff looked Alan in the eyes.

"Alan, you're not a Thunderbird yet," Jeff agreed. "But you will _always_ have a place here from now on."

Alan didn't miss the 'yet' that his father had subtly emphasized, and he wondered if it could really be true that his family was considering eventually letting him join International Rescue. There was no way they would do that… would they? He was just Alan Tracy, the loser brother, the mistake baby. He was Alan Tracy, stuck in boarding school while his family was off risking their lives to save the world. He was Alan Tracy who was very smart but who was feeling so lost and left behind that he couldn't even prove to his math teacher that he had, in reality, learned the Pythagorean theorem three years ago. No; his family would never let him help in a rescue. He was too immature, too young, too… well, too _Alan._

Jeff did something Alan had never seen him do before: he led Alan over to the chair behind his desk and pushed Alan down in it, moving to stand next to the older Tracy siblings facing Alan. That put Alan at the center of attention, instead of their father. Alan caught Scott smiling at him and smiled hesitantly back.

"Boys," Jeff called them back to the topic of their conversation. "Earlier this afternoon I told you that I was shutting down International Rescue." The collective flinch and angry breathing made it clear that everyone was on the same page. Jeff ran a hand through his hair. "Well, boys, there are some things we need to talk about."

There was silence as everyone waited, tense and stiff, for Jeff to continue.

"Alan brought it to my attention that it isn't fair of me to close down International Rescue without talking to you first. You see, boys, when I started IR, it was mine. But it isn't just mine anymore. It's yours, too. That means you should get some say in what happens here." Jeff ran his hand through his hair again. "When I talked to your brother earlier," he indicated Alan, "I was feeling guilty. I've forced all of you into throwing away your careers for something that was just a silly dream of mine, and it almost got you all killed. Three hours ago I was prepared to shut down the Thunderbirds for good. I wasn't going to ask any of you. I was just going to do it. Alan changed my mind. He knows how much this means to you, and he doesn't want to see it thrown away. He suggested that instead of making an executive decision, I should ask you. Boys, I want you to tell me here and now. No collective reasoning. No silent conversations. Individually, I need to hear it from all of you. What do you want to do?"

It was a long-winded explanation, and Alan found himself to be the subject of many stares and questioning gazes. His heart sank. Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe his brothers didn't like International Rescue as much as he'd thought. Maybe they'd all tell their father that Alan was insane and then throw Alan in the pool.

Alan was already thinking through his long mental list of hiding places when Gordon started to speak.

"Dad, we need to do this," he said slowly. "We're the Tracy family, but we're also the Thunderbirds. We can't leave all those people around the world expecting a rescue that will never come. Dad, we've been in dangerous situations before. Scott was in the Air Force and I was in WASP. You were an astronaut. Virgil was kidnapped, and John helped the police chase down an armed robber. And Alan? Alan fought off the Hood and saved our lives. Compared to all of that, what's one madman who wants us all dead?"

Alan was stunned to hear Gordon mention his disastrous escapade with the Hood as being part of the collective family's list of achievements_. This must be a joke, _he reasoned. There was absolutely no way that Gordon of all people would include Alan just-a-kid Tracy as part of the family, when the family was out doing things that mattered – saving lives, helping others, and giving people hope. Alan hadn't done any of that.

"Dad," Virgil spoke. "Don't you see? We're not the Thunderbirds. It's the other way around. The _Thunderbirds_ are who we are. You can't get rid of that now. What would we do? Where would we go? I'd be lost, honestly and truly, if I didn't get woken up at odd hours of the night to go put out fires and rescue people from earthquake zones. I don't go put on a uniform because it looks good. I put on a uniform because it's who I am. It's who I was meant to be."

"What happened on 'Five was horrible," John started. "It was the worst situation I've ever been in. But dad, do you know what I was thinking the whole time I was up there, waiting for you to come?" Jeff shook his head, and John continued. "I wasn't wondering _if_ you'd get there. It was only a matter of when. Why? Because we're the Thunderbirds, and saving people is what we do. Even when we left 'Five, the only thought on my mind was that if we work fast, it won't really take that much time to fix her so that we can get back to doing what we're meant to do."

"Dad," Scott stated, "We do this because we want to. Not because you want us to. Not because you told us to. Not because you forced us to. We want to do it. My brothers are right. This is who we are. We're the Tracys. We don't give up just because things get tough. What we want more than anything is to keep International Rescue alive. We can't give up now. We can't let the Hood win."

"More importantly, Dad," Alan piped up, feeling the need to speak. "My brothers, and you, are the best people I've ever known. This is something you all clearly love to do. It's something you're all good at. It brings you together. I think you are who you are because of the Thunderbirds. Take IR out of the picture, and you're not you anymore. The world needs the Thunderbirds. Dad, _you_ need the Thunderbirds. Don't give up on this dream just because someone got hurt. Someone's always getting hurt. It's part of life. The Hood was insane, but is it really worth letting the lives of thousands of civilians be forgotten about just because someone came after us?" He paused to let that sink in.

"Dad, I know my brothers, and I know you. Maybe not as well as I should, but still. You're the Tracy family, yes, but my brothers are right: you're the Thunderbirds. Please don't take that away from them. Could you imagine Scott existing in a situation where he couldn't take charge? Or Virgil doing anything other than saving lives? Could you imagine Gordon in any setting other than this one, where you all know each other and love each other and work together as one unit? Can you imagine John sitting somewhere, doing anything other than what he does, which is to be the glue that holds the family together during a tough rescue? John's got it the worst of all of you, but can you really imagine him being anywhere else?"

Everyone stared at him. No one said anything. Alan frowned; he should have just kept his mouth shut. He wasn't part of International Rescue; he never should have tried to speak for its members. Trying to avoid the burning gazes of his family, Alan stared at the floor. Finally, _finally_ Scott spoke.

"I think you know where we stand."

"Thanks, boys." Jeff's voice was both sad and proud when he answered. "I'll call the relevant parties and see if we can reestablish our reputation."

"There's another thing we need to talk about," Virgil reminded everyone, and Alan once again felt the eyes of his family on him.

"Virge, can't that wait until later?" Alan murmured. He wasn't really in the mood to talk about his abandonment issues. He'd just made a fool of himself in front of his brothers and he didn't want to be made into even more of a fool.

"No, Al," John sighed. "We need to talk about it now."

"Allie," Gordon frowned, "I'm your closest brother, both in age and personality. We're supposed to get along. I should be able to read you without you even saying a word… but lately I haven't even been trying. I'm sorry. I should have known you felt horrible about being left behind."

"Don't, Gordon," Alan said dully. "Don't apologize. I'm not worth it."

With a quickness that only came as the result of spending a childhood being chased around by four older brothers, Alan shot up from his father's chair and was out the door before anyone could try to stop him. He knew he was acting childish. He knew he'd be in trouble later. He knew he was only hurting his chances of ever becoming at Thunderbird. He didn't care. He just needed to get away. He couldn't control the urge to run. It was as if something else had taken over and was pushing him out of the room. No wonder his brothers didn't want him on the team. He'd never been able to control himself.

Running down the stairs, Alan opened the patio door and ran out. It was still storming outside. The thunder was dying down, but there was another set of dark, ominous clouds moving in. It was raining, but the rain was the warm, tropical kind and Alan paid no attention to it. Behind him he could hear shouts, but the voices still seemed to be contained within the house so Alan ran faster, trying to hide before his brothers spotted him. He dove into the jungle not far from the villa, hiding just out of sight of the beach. He watched his father and brothers sprint from the house, frantically searching for him. Why should they care? They probably only wanted to yell at him.

It was with a thrill of fear that he realized he was hiding mere meters from where he'd been when the Hood had tortured Lady Penelope and Parker.

_Open the door, Alan. _

His blood seemed to freeze in his veins. _No_. The Hood was here. He knew it. He _knew _it. Why had he decided to come out here? Why hadn't he stayed inside where it was dry and safe? The Hood was here with him; the Hood was going to kill him. He knew this, and he was well aware that his brothers would never find him in time.

_Alan, don't you know by now that your brothers don't care about you?_ The Hood's mocking voice sent chills down Alan's spine. Behind him the rain caused bushes and trees to rustle, and the sound was a lot like someone's ragged breathing in his ear. Alan closed his eyes and covered his ears.

_Alan,_ the voice was disappointed this time. _You can't keep me out._

"Leave me alone!" Alan's grunt was loud enough to cause John, who was moving towards the beach a few dozen steps away, to turn towards him. Alan almost cried in relief, only to be hit by a wave of disappointment when it became clear that his brother hadn't seen him. John moved on, apparently assuming that Alan's voice had been the wind or the rain.

_You're alone, Alan,_ the Hood whispered as more leaves rustled next to the confused, terrified teen. _You're all alone. They're not going to find you._

"John!" Alan called, but his plea for help was drowned out as thunder cracked in the air. "No… please, don't leave me…" But John was already too far away to hear. "Come on, Alan Tracy, get yourself together," the teen commanded himself out loud. "Your brothers care about you. They'll find you. Dad will yell at you. Everything will be fine."

_You're a fool, Alan,_ the Hood laughed along with another loud boom of thunder. _Your brother John can't hear you. He looked right at you and didn't see you. You're a waste of space._

"NO!" Alan shouted, but there was no one to hear his yell. He could feel something, a strange, almost magnetic pull inside his mind. He tried to fight it. "No…" The strange feeling became stronger, and Alan couldn't take it anymore. He got up from his hiding spot and ran, not caring where he went or who saw him.

_Run, Alan. Go somewhere no one can find you. Save them all from you. Go._

Alan ran towards the ocean. The storms were creating some scary-looking waves, and even though it wasn't yet fully dark out, the clouds were making it darker than it should have been. The teen had lived on the island long enough to know that this particular part of the beach could have some very strong riptides, especially during storms. Another rumble of thunder. If Alan called for help, no one would be able to hear him. The rain poured down, distorting his vision as water dripped into his eyes. If the teen went into the water, he knew he was probably not coming back out.

_Do it, Alan. Show Jeff Tracy what you're really worth. _The Hood's words were an order, not a suggestion.

Alan barely hesitated when his toes hit the water. He plunged forward into the surf, clumsily swimming out away from the shore. A wave crested over his head. Water poured down his throat. He felt it filling his stomach. He choked, but there wasn't enough time to breathe before another wave crashed down upon him. Vaguely he registered a strange tug-of-war on his body as waves pushed him one way and currents pulled him the other. Lightning lit up the sky around him as he instinctively fought. The strange need to run to the water was gone, and now he was left terrified and alone.

"Help!" he managed to scream before another wave submerged him. This time he didn't resurface. His muscles were tired from fighting the waves, and he was too disoriented to tell which way he was facing.

_Goodbye, Alan Tracy. _The voice faded from his mind in the form of a disturbing, crazed laugh.

Alan could not think. He could not act. He could not do anything to fix the situation he was in. But he did know one thing: he was going to die.

Alan didn't hear the loud voice that shouted his name. He didn't see the frantic movements of a body swimming towards him as fast as possible. He didn't know the horror felt by the other person as they watched him slip under the water. Alan couldn't feel the hand that came out of nowhere and grabbed him by the elbow.

The next thing Alan was aware of was a soggy, rough surface under him. He felt something moving in and out of his lungs, and it took him a long moment to realize that it was air, not water.

"Breathe, Alan," a not-entirely-calm voice commanded. Alan complied, though his lungs ached, his throat burned, and his nose felt like it was filled with bleach.

"Boys!" the same voice called, a little louder than Alan thought was necessary. He opened his eyes to see his father talking into his watch. "I've found him. We're on the beach in front of the house. Virgil, I need you here yesterday." Turning back to Alan, Jeff frowned. "Alan, relax, kiddo. I've got you."

The teen let his eyes close, listening to the sound of the waves. His father laid a hand on his chest gently, and Alan let it stay there, grounding him to reality.

"Th…the H-Hood," he stuttered, cold, shivering, and trying to catch his breath.

"Don't try to talk right now, son," Jeff pleaded, sounding desperate. Alan shook his head weakly. He was truly exhausted.

"The Hood did this," Alan explained, though talking hurt his throat.

"Son, what do you mean the Hood did this?" Jeff asked. Alan opened his eyes. Behind his father he could see two of his brothers sprinting towards him. He tried to work out which of his brothers they were, but he couldn't think clearly enough. He closed his eyes once again, too tired to keep them open.

"He got in my head," Alan coughed. "He told me stuff. Made me run into the water." He was really too tired to keep up a conversation. All he wanted to do was sleep. A cough sent a shock through his body, and suddenly he was wide awake again.

"Breathe, Alan," Jeff warned, feeling Alan's breath catch. "Breathe."

"What happened?" A no-nonsense voice asked urgently, and Alan felt the owner of the voice drop down into the sand beside him. A hand moved to feel his pulse. "Hey, Sprout, you with me?" the same voice asked, and Alan was able to identify it as Virgil's.

"The Hood drowned him," Jeff answered flatly.

"What do you mean?" A quiet, obviously worried voice asked.

"Alan said that the Hood got in his head," Jeff sighed, and even with his eyes closed Alan could picture the man running a hand through his hair.

There was silence, and Alan was sure that Jeff, Virgil, and John were holding one of their silent conversations.

"I'll go call the Prime Minister," John said, and before Alan could beg him not to go he was already running away.

Scott and Gordon ran up to the group just then, Scott already in full smothering mode.

"What happened?" he unknowingly repeated Virgil's question, and Alan smiled, though there was nothing amusing about the situation.

"Dad, I need to get him to the infirmary," Virgil ignored Scott's question. "Gordon, go grab the backboard from by the pool, will you?"

"Scott, go find John. He's probably in my office. He'll explain it to you. Then meet us in the infirmary." Jeff wasn't making a suggestion.

"Not likely," Scott argued. Alan opened his eyes in time to see Jeff raise an eyebrow.

"Scott, this is not the time. Go. My office. With John. Now." The two stared each other down, but Scott never had a chance of winning that one.

"Yes, sir," he agreed, heading off to find John. Once again, another fight had been caused because of the youngest Tracy. Alan's terrified eyes found his only remaining brother's.

"It's okay, Sprout," Virgil said, smoothing Alan's hair back from his forehead. "Don't worry about it."

"But 's my fault," Alan argued.

"No, son, this _isn't_ your fault," Jeff told him. Gordon returned then, and Alan felt himself being shifted from the soggy sand onto a harder surface. Even though he didn't do anything to help, the move was exhausting, and he was asleep before they'd even made it into the house.

****Thunderbirds****

It was dark. Alan looked around, straining to see something, _anything,_ but there simply was not enough light. The teen forced himself to remain calm. He had to figure out where he was. He tried to remember how he'd gotten there, but all he could bring to mind were disconnected, blurry images. He could clearly remember water. He knew he was scared… scared of the water? But, no… that wasn't quite right. Creasing his forehead as he fought to both see through the darkness and think past the fog that seemed to fill his brain, Alan began to panic. He remembered a voice in his head, and he knew that somehow the voice was connected with red, evil eyes…

"Whoa, Sprout, hey, calm down!"

Who was that? Alan couldn't think. He felt a hand land on his shoulder, and instinctively he flinched away from it. The hand followed after him, resting once again on his shoulder, and Alan couldn't help it: he kicked and punched and tried to roll away from whatever was grabbing onto him. He fought hard, but the single hand was joined by another, and then more weight settled onto his legs, preventing him from kicking out. He let out a shout, surprised and panicked, and began hyperventilating.

"Alan Tracy, calm down!" the same voice barked. Alan didn't know who it was, but, he reflected, the voice didn't sound like the one that had been in his head. The voice sounded friendly and concerned. He stopped fighting the hands that were holding him down, but he didn't relax his tense muscles.

The room was flooded with light, and Alan blinked the moisture out of his eyes when the sudden brightness caused him to tear up. He caught a glimpse of the room as a face came into view. The infirmary. Virgil. _Oh._

Suddenly Alan remembered what had happened. He'd left the house in order to avoid talking to his family, but the Hood had taken over his mind and forced him to try to drown himself.

"Oops," Alan reflected aloud as he remembered.

"I'll say," Virgil agreed wryly. "You back with me now, Sprout?"

"Yeah, sorry, Virge."

Alan looked around for the person who had been holding down his legs. His eyes met Scott's at the foot of the bed. His oldest brother had a tortured look on his face. Alan didn't like that look, not at all, so he raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Scott did not disappoint.

"We called to find out about the Hood," Scott told him. "As it turns out, one of the prison guards got lazy. For about fifteen minutes, the Hood escaped from his cell."

Scott must have seen the terrified look on Alan's face, because he hurried on.

"No, he's back in there now, and under much higher security," he assured. Alan relaxed.

"Interestingly enough," Virgil continued, never taking his eyes from the monitors above Alan's head, "The time of the Hood's escape coincides exactly with the time of your... near- drowning."

"Oh," Alan didn't quite know how to respond to that. He'd told his father already that the Hood had taken over his mind and forced him into the ocean. Alan clearly remembered that his father had told his brothers. So why did they sound so surprised? Unless… "You thought I did it myself." It wasn't a question. Virgil and Scott exchanged a look, and neither man met Alan's gaze.

"No, Alan, we didn't," Jeff, John, and Gordon entered the room.

"But we'd be lying if we said the thought didn't cross our minds," John admitted quietly, seeing Alan's disbelieving expression upon hearing his father's words.

For a brief moment, Alan thought about getting angry. He thought about yelling at his brothers and father for even thinking such a thing. He thought about getting up and storming out of the room, slamming doors angrily as he made his way upstairs to his bedroom. He thought about a lot of things he could say, none of them kind. In the end, however, he simply exhaled slowly, making a chore of it, letting out his breath so that he couldn't speak. When he felt calm enough to say something, he inhaled.

"Okay."

His family exchanged looks.

"Okay?" Virgil asked in disbelief. Alan sighed.

"Okay," Alan repeated with a nod.

"What does that mean, Alan?" John asked carefully.

"It means," Alan frowned, pushing himself into a sitting position and ignoring Virgil's dissatisfied looks, "Okay." His family clearly wasn't getting it, so he tried to find a way to explain. "I know that the Hood did this. You know it now, too. What you thought in the past is in the past."

"That's it?" Gordon asked, and if Alan didn't know his prankster brother he would've mistaken his incredulous tone for a mocking one.

"Yes," Alan replied simply. Seeing the raised eyebrows on Gordon's and Jeff's faces, Alan rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to lie to you; the thought had crossed my mind, too. But I promise I'd never actually do it."

"Alan…" Scott's tone was a warning. Alan shrugged.

"Why?" Virgil asked, but Alan could tell that his brother already had a fairly good understanding of the issue.

"You all hate me." Alan paused and shook his head. His statement wasn't true, and he knew it. "Or so I thought. It's hard to undo years of habitually negative thinking in just three days."

"Why did you run out?" Jeff asked cautiously.

"I think," Alan said slowly, "That it was the Hood. But… I was already planning on going, anyway. The Hood just made it impossible to change my mind."

"If the Hood hadn't interfered, where would you have gone?" Alan had never heard such a dangerous tone in John's voice, and he swallowed thickly.

"To my room," Alan answered. "Maybe down to the silos." No one commented that Alan wasn't supposed to be down there. It wasn't the time.

"Why did you feel the need to leave, though? Al, we were just trying to help." The desperation in Gordon's voice made Alan flinch guiltily.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he meant it. "I just… you had just seen the footage of me messing up, and I was sure it would be enough to make you realize how unlike you all I really am. I thought you would shun me again. And then when we were going to talk about me being left behind, which is a touchy subject anyways for me, I knew I would sound like even more of a foolish child to you all."

"Alan," Scott groaned. "Like Gordon said earlier, we all make mistakes. That's how we learn. That's how we grow. That's how we become better people."

"Yeah, but if you guys ever let me on the team, I'm going to be the little brother no one trusts. You'll all be waiting for me to mess up."

"Alan, no one waits for anyone to mess up around here," Jeff insisted. "And no one gets left behind, either. Not anymore."

"Do you realize, Alan, how proud we are of you?" Gordon asked suddenly, and Alan froze.

"Yeah, Sprout," Virgil agreed. "We're proud of you. You did a good job the other day."

"Thanks for saving our lives, Alan," Scott said, with a nod in Alan's direction.

"And for stopping the Hood," John added to Scott's statement.

"You're the youngest, yes, but that doesn't matter. You're a Tracy." Jeff's statement brought a grin to Alan's face. Never before had his father called him by the family name, except to yell at him. His father's words had been the exact ones he'd needed to hear. Alan smiled even wider. He felt included. He felt like part of the family. He felt safe. Before he could say anything, a yawn broke through his control.

"Go to sleep, Alan," Virgil instructed, helping his youngest brother to lie back on the bed. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"We all will," Jeff added. Alan let his eyes drift closed.

Finally, after years of not belonging, after years of being left behind, Alan Tracy felt like he was home. He relaxed on the bed and fell asleep, finally allowing the healing to begin.

**To be continued. **

** Please feel free to review. I hope you enjoyed it. I'll update soon. Again, yes, there are unfinished plot points in this chapter. Next chapter will tie them up. Thanks for reading! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for reading! **

** Note: This chapter is not my best writing. I tried to make this more exciting, but it never seemed to work out that way, no matter how often I rewrote it. Consider this a filler chapter. There's only one left after this. **

** Disclaimer: I don't own the Thunderbirds any more now than I did before. I make no profit from this or any fanfiction writing. **

"How did you convince Dad to ask us about keeping the Thunderbirds alive, anyways?" Scott asked curiously as the five brothers sat by the pool in their swimming trunks. It was almost noon time. Alan's near-drowning the day before had scared the family badly, but it had also served to bring them closer together.

"You pretty much heard all of it in Dad's office yesterday after we watched the security footage," Alan shrugged. "I told him that you guys love what you do, and that to take it away from you would be unfair."

"That was really enough to get Dad to listen to what we wanted?" Virgil asked incredulously. Alan shrugged.

"Actually, I think Dad was more upset about shutting down IR than any of us were. I think he was waiting for someone to convince him to keep the dream alive."

"No," Scott disagreed thoughtfully. "You don't know how Dad gets when we're on rescues. He loves International Rescue, there's no arguing with that, but it means nothing to him compared to our safety. Whatever you said, Sprout, it must have been one heck of a speech."

"It wasn't much," Alan shook his head with a frown. "I was actually worried that I was wrong, and that you didn't want to be in IR as much as I thought you did."

"You're joking," John raised an eyebrow.

"You do realize, Alan, that IR is our life?" Scott asked.

"I know," Alan agreed. "But I thought you'd be mad at me for speaking for you."

"Sprout, you got Dad to listen. None of us would have been able to do that. We're not mad at you for saving IR. Trust me on that, kiddo," Virgil smiled.

"I'm glad," Alan sighed.

"I still want to know how you managed to convince him," Scott prodded. Alan shrugged again.

"I don't know, Scott. Like I said, Dad more or less repeated most of what I said when we were in his office yesterday. You know; before I ran out." Alan flinched at the memory.

"Well, whatever you said to him, thanks, Sprout," Gordon shrugged. Alan let out a laugh as his fish of a brother stood up from his lounge chair and sprinted for the pool, diving in and swimming an entire lap under water. He eventually popped up like a meerkat and hauled himself out of the pool.

"You're insane, you know that?" Virgil asked Gordon. Alan had talked to his brothers just a few hours earlier about the difference between mocking for the purpose of bullying and teasing for the purpose of fun, and he'd noticed a lighter air around the house ever since. People weren't trying so hard to hold back jokes and insults, and overall it already seemed much more natural.

"Why, thank you, kind sir," Gordon replied stupidly. Alan let out a snort.

"Good morning, boys." The brothers turned to see Kyrano coming towards them from the beach.

"Morning, Kryano," Scott replied with a wave. The Malaysian man came to stand in front of them. Alan's experiences the evening before had not been kept secret from the other inhabitants of the island, and Kyrano was not the first to come and see if the teen was alright.

"Alan," Kyrano said. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Kyrano," Alan smiled.

"I'm sorry, Alan. I didn't think my brother would be able to control you from that distance. This is my fault."

"No, Kyrano," Alan disagreed. "It's not. You told me everything you could, to the best of your knowledge. It's not your fault that the Hood had an ability that you didn't know about."

"Alan's right, Kyrano," John told the guilty-looking man. "And anyways, it all turned out okay."

"Yes, that is true," Kyrano agreed, though his silent _until the next time the Hood escapes_ was easily picked up on by all five brothers.

"Don't worry about it," Alan reassured the man. "We'll be more careful. Now that we know what he can do, we'll be on the lookout. I'm just grateful you were here to tell us about it at all."

"Thanks, Alan. Well, boys, I will see you later." The man walked away, heading towards the house. He disappeared inside.

"So, who's up for a game of volleyball?" Gordon asked excitedly. There was just no way to turn off his energy.

"Alan can't play," Virgil reminded Gordon with a glare. Gordon deflated a bit.

"Oh, come on, guys, just go play," Alan laughed. "I'll be fine sitting here. Besides, I get to play cheerleader." Alan's bruised ribs were still bothering him, though not as much as they had been, and after his near-drowning less than 24 hours before all Alan really wanted was to rest – and stay as far away from water as possible.

"You sure, Sprout?" Scott asked.

"Of course, Scott. Go on." Alan was grateful that his brothers were starting to include him in everything, but he felt a little bit guilty that they seemed to think they couldn't do anything without him. Still, after the conversation in the infirmary the previous night, Alan was feeling much better about his place in the family. He knew now that his brothers' apology the day after the Hood incident was indeed genuine, and ever since the Hood had attacked, his father had started to listen to his side of things instead of just jumping to conclusions. Granted, it had only been four days, but Alan was sure that this trend would continue. As far as he was concerned, everything was forgiven and the Tracy family could move on.

"Hey, Sprout!" Gordon called as he finished setting up the volleyball net across the pool.

"Yeah, Gords?"

"Wanna pick teams?"

Alan grinned; he'd never been asked to pick teams before. Contemplating his brothers, who were watching him almost nervously, Alan let out a wicked laugh.

"Gordon and Virgil against Scott and John," he smirked. Of all the brothers (Alan himself excluded) Gordon and Virgil were the least likely to get along when it came to team sports. As for Scott and John, while they got along fine, they never seemed to be able to coordinate their efforts together. The only time Alan had ever seen all four of his brothers work together without any sort of problem was when he'd watch the Thunderbirds on the news. It seemed that only when lives were at stake could the boys cooperate completely.

If Alan was right, this was going to be a very interesting volleyball game.

"You are one evil person," Gordon glared darkly, but there was a twinkle in his eye. Alan just laughed, settling back on the lounge chair to watch his brothers try not to kill each other.

"Hey, Alan," Tintin called, coming out of the house with Fermat. The teens made their way to Alan and joined him in watching the game.

"Hey, guys."

"Did you get everything sorted out with your family?" Alan read the deeper meaning in Tintin's question as he watched John and Scott crash into each other, losing the point in their rush to get to the ball.

"Yeah," Alan replied, a smile appearing on his face. Tintin and Fermat relaxed, exchanging relieved looks.

"That's good," Fermat said. "W-we were p-p-intending to g-g-walk on the b-b-b-sand."

"Would you like to come?" Tintin asked. Alan shot a glance at his brothers. Scott had overheard the conversation. Giving a smile and a wave of his hand, Scott turned back to the game just in time to stop the volleyball from hitting the water. John jumped up and spiked it over the net, causing Gordon and Virgil to splutter indignantly.

"Sure," Alan agreed, standing with his friends and heading for the beach. It was a beautiful day. The sand was still wet from the previous day's downpours, and Alan tried hard not to stare at the general spot where he knew he'd almost died. Again.

"Wh-wh-wh… did it hurt?" Fermat asked morbidly, earning himself a slap on the back of the head from Tintin. Fermat shrugged.

"Yeah," Alan sighed. "It hurt."

"I'm sorry the Hood did that to you, Alan," Tintin frowned. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop it."

"Tintin," Alan said, halting in his tracks and pulling his friends to a stop. "You know I don't blame you for any of this, right?" When Tintin didn't answer, Alan continued. "You can't help who you're related to, Tintin. You didn't do anything wrong. You're a great person, and an even greater friend. Having an insane uncle isn't going to change that. I don't care what powers you have."

Tintin stared at Alan for a moment before nodded slowly. "Thanks, Alan."

The trio made their way along the beach in silence, finally coming to a place well out of sight of the villa and dropping to the sand to watch the wildlife. Seagulls flew overhead, chirping and squawking their unique song. A crab scurried towards the water, stopping every few feet before hurrying off once more. Fermat pointed out to the sea, and as the teens watched, a whale's tail disappeared under the water.

Alan took a moment to reflect that until the incident with the Hood, he'd taken all of this for granted. He'd never stopped to observe the animals; he'd never realized how truly _beautiful_ his island home was. To him it had always been just the place he lived when his family couldn't force him to stay away at boarding school.

As if he could read Alan's mind, Fermat nudged his best friend.

"You sh-sh-sh…n-n-need to t-t-t-sp-sp-tell them, Alan," he said. "Tell them h-how m-much you d-d-hate school."

"You really think that's a good idea?" Alan asked, but his sarcasm wasn't aimed at Fermat.

"Y-yes," Fermat nodded. "I th-think the only way they'll f-f-d-d-change their minds is if you talk about it."

"We're gonna end up fighting," Alan disagreed. "And anyway, it's not that I don't like school, Ferm. I just don't like being shoved aside. I know at least that they'll call me more often, but I'll still be away from home. I won't be part of the team. At least while I'm here, I'm part of the family."

"Alan," Tintin sighed, "It's easier for Fermat and I, I suppose. We don't have any siblings. While we're away, we don't have anyone left at home who still gets to be part of the family life. Still, that doesn't mean we always like leaving for school. Just tell your dad. Yeah, you'll end up fighting, but at least try it."

"Tintin's r-right, Alan," Fermat agreed. "Y-you'll never kn-kn-kn… be sure unless you t-tr-do it."

"I guess so," Alan agreed. "Look, if I do talk to my dad, and we end up fighting…"

"We'll be right here, Alan," Tintin told him, indicating the spot she was sitting in.

"Oh," Alan said, surprised. "You mean right now."

"N-now's as good a time as a-any, Alan," Fermat agreed. Feeling like he had very little choice in the matter, Alan stood up, brushed the sand off the back of his shorts, and jogged back to the villa. His brothers were just finishing their game of volleyball when he got back to the pool.

"Something wrong, Sprout?" Scott asked worriedly, taking in Alan's sweaty, sandy form.

"Nope. Where's dad?" Alan asked.

"In his office, probably," John answered. "Why?"

"Need to talk to him," Alan explained, ignoring the concerned looks his brothers were still sending his way.

"Are you going to end up fighting?" Scott asked, and he and Virgil exchanged familiar looks that, to Alan, meant something akin to _run and hide._

"Probably," Alan admitted. "Hey, who won?"

"We did," Virgil and Gordon announced simultaneously, much to Alan's surprise. Scott and John splashed them.

"Rematch. Later." The winners just rolled their eyes at Scott's tone.

"Well, if you hear an explosion, you know where it came from," Alan cheerfully saluted his brothers and went inside. Making his way up to his father's office, Alan paused in the open doorway when he realized that the man was on the phone. He was about to leave his father to his private conversation, but Jeff looked up and saw him. Smiling at Alan, the older man silently invited the teen into the room. Alan took a seat in front of his father's desk.

"Thank you, Madam President." Alan's jaw dropped; his father was on the phone with the President?

Hanging up the phone, Jeff caught a look at his son's expression and laughed out loud.

"Dad, was that –"

"It was," Jeff confirmed with a smile. "So, Alan, was there something I can do for you?"

"Oh. Yeah. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Dad. I didn't know you were busy. I can come back later…" Alan trailed off nervously. Now that he was here in his father's office, this conversation didn't seem like a good idea. Unfortunately, Alan's attempt at deflection only piqued his father's interest.

"No, it's fine, son. I was about to take a break anyways. What's on your mind?"

"Erm… Well, Dad, promise me you won't yell?" Alan asked. "Promise you'll hear me out?"

Jeff's eyebrows raised.

"Alan… what kind of discussion are we going to be having, that you're afraid it's going to end in a fight?"

"Well… it's about school," Alan admitted, noticing that his father kept his face carefully blank.

"Alright, Alan," the man sighed. "Shoot."

"Dad, I've been thinking," Alan started. "I told you the other day that I was wondering if I can be home-schooled."

"Oh, Alan, not this again," Jeff ran a hand through his hair.

"Please, Dad, hear me out," he begged. Jeff looked at him for a long moment before nodding.

"Alright, son."

"I realize it's not the greatest idea," Alan admitted. "I've been thinking about it. Dad, I don't really want to be home-schooled. I want to go to school with my friends, graduate, and pull my grades up, for sure."

"You do?" Jeff sounded surprised. Alan nodded.

"But Dad, I'm also afraid of what will happen when I leave. It's taken nearly half of my week-long Spring break just to get to this point with you guys, and that's only because the Hood attacked us. I'm afraid that if I go back to Wharton's, you'll forget about me all over again."

"That's not likely, Alan," Jeff started, but Alan interrupted.

"I know I'm a pain, but the truth is, I feel like you only send me there because you don't want me around," Alan admitted to his father. It was the first time he'd told this to the older man, and the look of shock on Jeff's face surprised him.

"Alan, no! That's not true."

"It isn't?"

"No. Alan, there are a few reasons you go to boarding school, but none of them are because we don't want you around. Look," Again, Jeff ran a hand through his hair. "We live on an island, first of all. It's too hard to bring you back and forth day after day. And another thing; we're the Thunderbirds. We get called out on rescues all the time. Even if we could pick you up and drop you off at school, there's no guaranteeing that we wouldn't be out on a call when we'd need to come and get you. Alan, look at what happened with the Hood. We wanted to keep you away from dangers like that for as long as possible. A boarding school with security like Wharton's was a good place to start. And besides, kiddo, I wanted you to get the best possible education."

"So it's not because you don't want me around?" Alan asked again, confused.

"Of course not. Don't be silly."

"Oh," Alan sighed, leaning back in his chair as he contemplated that. Jeff watched him for a moment.

"I'll tell you what, Alan," Jeff compromised. "I'll have one of your brothers fly to Wharton's and pick up any work you'll miss if you were to stay here for another week."

Alan perked up, looking at his father pleadingly.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes," Jeff agreed. "We'll see if John or Virgil would be willing to tutor you. If it works, we'll have this discussion again next week, though I'd like for you to seriously consider going back to school. If not, you're definitely going back to Wharton's. Deal?"

"Deal," Alan agreed.

"Alan, even if you do end up going back to school, you're not going to be on the fringes anymore, I promise. We may not call immediately after every rescue, but from now on, someone _will _call. I'll start coming to more school events, and you can come home more often for weekends. How does that sound?"

"That would be great, Dad," Alan smiled. Jeff smiled back.

"Alright, kiddo. Send your brothers up here, would you?"

"Sure! Thanks, Dad!"

He'd had another civil conversation with his father. No one had yelled. Nothing had been broken. He wasn't having a tantrum. Alan mused that this must be a world record. As he made his way out to the pool, he located his brothers lounging around the shallow end. They seemed to be having a serious conversation. Virgil was the first to catch sight of Alan.

"Sprout! You're alive!" he joked.

"Very funny," Alan said sarcastically, though he chuckled along with the rest of his brothers. "Hey, Dad wants to see you in his office."

"Which one of us?" Gordon asked.

"All of you."

"Did he say why?" Scott asked, already using the ladder the climb out of the pool.

"Nope. He just said to send you up there. Hey; did you know that Dad was talking on the phone with the President?" Alan asked. His brothers laughed at his expression.

"Doesn't surprise me, Sprout," Virgil ruffled Alan's hair. "You coming?"

"Oh, no, Dad and I already talked. Whatever he wants to see you about doesn't involve me." Alan shrugged. Normally being left out would bother him, but somehow he couldn't care less this time.

"Where are you going, Al?" John asked.

"To find Fermat and Tintin," Alan answered, and he turned and jogged away, following his own footprints down the beach. It wasn't long before he spotted his friends, exactly where he'd left them.

"That didn't take long," Tintin noted cautiously. Alan shook his head.

"No, it didn't take long at all," he agreed.

"Y-you s-s-appear to be h-h-h-in a good mood," Fermat noted, just as cautiously as Tintin. Alan laughed.

"You can say that. Guys, you'll never believe it. He actually listened to me. He heard me out."

"That's great, Alan," Fermat enthused. "What did he s-s-s-decide?"

"He's going to let me try home-schooling for the next week, and at the end of that we're going to talk again about whether or not I'm going back to Wharton's."

"That's great," Fermat repeated. The conversation lulled into silence as the teens once again sat listening to the waves and taking in the beauty of their home. The trio sat like that for more than an hour, happy just to be in each other's company. Suddenly Alan's watch vibrated, causing the blonde to jump in surprise. Tintin and Fermat looked at him.

"Uh, yeah, Dad?" Alan asked into the device. He still wasn't used to wearing it, and having it go off like that was disconcerting.

"Alan, are you with Tintin and Fermat?"

"Yeah, Dad, they're right here," Alan confirmed. "Why?"

"Would you tell Fermat to come back to the house? Brains needs to speak to him."

"Oh, sure. He's on his way." Fermat had easily overheard Jeff's words and was already heading back to the house at a fast walk.

"Alan," John's voice sounded in the background.

"Yeah, John?"

"Dad told us about your compromise. I'm flying to Wharton's to get your stuff. Do you want to come?"

It wasn't often that Alan got to spend time alone with John, so he quickly nodded.

"Yes, please."

"I'll be in Tracy One whenever you get back here. Don't rush. I'm not going to take off without you," John promised.

"Okay. I'll be there in ten." Someone on the other end disconnected the call, and Alan and Tintin rose to their feet.

"Sorry to leave you here alone, Tintin," Alan frowned.

"Oh, Alan, don't be silly. I'll find Fermat. Besides, Gordon promised me we could pull a prank together. I'm rather looking forward to it."

"Just leave me out of it," Alan begged nervously. Tintin only smiled.

"We'll see." Together the teens made their way back to the villa. Alan watched Tintin out of the corner of his eye. The two of them had never really gotten along in the past, but, Alan had to admit, Tintin really wasn't that bad. She was smart, she was a good friend, and she was even fairly pretty...

_Ah, Alan, stop thinking like that!_ The boy yelled at himself mentally.

Alan and Tintin arrived at the villa together, Tintin heading off to the kitchen and Alan making his way through the house and out to the runway where he knew John would have the jet waiting.

"Nine minutes and eleven seconds," John rattled off as Alan stepped into the cockpit, having sealed the door behind him.

"Huh?"

"You said you'd be here in ten minutes. It only took you nine minutes and eleven seconds," John explained. Alan raised an eyebrow.

"You were timing me?"

"For curiosity's sake only," John smiled. Alan shook his head at his brother's antics. "Ready to go, Sprout?" Alan quickly nodded and fastened his seatbelt, and soon the plane was angling up in the air. Alan stared at the open sky in front of him.

Feeling John's gaze on the side of his face, Alan turned to face his only blonde brother. He immediately caught onto the meaning of John's conspiratorial grin.

"Wanna try flying, Sprout?"

"Yeah!"

"Just don't tell Dad," John smirked. With John coaching him, Alan flew from Tracy Island to Massachusetts without incident, even managing to land the plane on his own – almost.

"You're a good pilot, Sprout," John complimented. "Better than Scott."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but don't tell Scott I said that; he'll have my head." Sharing a laugh, John and Alan made their way to the school via rental car.

"Alan," John asked slowly as he drove down the street, "Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know… Sprout, you've been through a lot in the past week. First the Hood, then the security footage, and now almost drowning… It's enough to shake anyone," John explained.

"I'm fine, John."

"Are you sure?" Alan glanced over at his quietest brother, noting the concern on the older man's face. Alan turned his gaze away.

"No," he admitted. "I thought I was, but I still don't fully believe I'm safe, John. And what happens if I go back to school and you all forget me again? I can't do that anymore."

"Alan," the other blonde frowned. "Trust me, Sprout, we'll never forget about you again."

Looking at his brother's face, Alan's eyes narrowed.

"You know something I don't?" he asked. John shook his head.

"No, kid. The only thing I know is that we made a huge mistake, sending you off to school without ever trying to talk to you. When you came home for breaks, everyone always thought you were the one with the problem. Now we realize that it wasn't you at all. It was us. We're not going to make that same mistake again."

"You say that now," Alan sighed, "But when it gets down to it, are you really going to remember to call me after a rescue? Are you really going to make an effort to try to listen to my side of the story?"

"Yes," John promised. "You're part of the family, Alan. You're always going to be."

"What about the Hood?" Alan asked desperately.

"If the Hood tries to do anything to you ever again, it will be the last thing he ever does," John promised. Alan didn't like the dangerous glint in John's eyes and couldn't hold back a shudder at his older brother's words.

The blondes arrived at Wharton's then, and when they had been buzzed through the security gate, they made their way together up to the main building. A receptionist met them, having been alerted ahead of time by a phone call from Jeff. Within twenty minutes the brothers were back on the road, Alan's and Fermat's school work in hand. The flight back to the island was smooth with Alan at the controls, and this time Alan even managed to land without any help at all from his brother, who applauded his efforts. The two made their way back into the villa.

"John, you promise that I'll always be part of the family from now on?"

"Always, Sprout. I promise."

When Alan stepped out onto the patio ten minutes later, followed closely by John, no one commented that the two blondes weren't so blonde anymore. Alan had been dyed blue from head to toe, and John was a rather disturbing shade of orange. The two brothers took a moment to look each other up and down before simultaneously letting out a ground-shaking yell.

"GORDON!"

**Not my best chapter, I know. Sorry about that. We're getting to the end; there's only one chapter left to go. Thanks so much for all of the reviews and follows. It means a lot. I got a bit sloppy with my proofreading and editing on this chapter, so I apologize for any mistakes. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Last chapter! And a short one, at that. Thanks so much, everyone, for the reviews, favs, follows, and just for reading this. Whether you liked it or hated it, I thank you for reading it. **

**I don't own the Thunderbirds. Nope. I also don't make any profit from writing this. **

Alan watched as Fermat tried to swim, mentally urging his friend on with silent cheers. He was as elated as his best friend was when Fermat finally climbed out of the pool. Alan knew how much of a challenge it was for Fermat to overcome his fear of water, and the accomplishment caused a surge of pride to well up in Alan as he watched his friend.

"Great job, Ferm," Alan congratulated when Brains had wrapped a towel around the boy. Fermat smiled.

"Thanks."

Fermat and Alan exchanged a relaxed smile. It was Saturday, and both boys had decided to return to Wharton's on the following Monday. The past week had gone entirely without any fighting amongst the residents of Tracy Island, and Alan, finally sure of his spot in the family, had stopped trying to second-guess his family's motives for apologizing and spending time with him. Alan was happy, for the first time since his mother died, and Fermat's spirits soared as he noticed his best friend's elation.

"Alan!" Tintin called. Alan turned to look at the girl, all thoughts of making a sarcastic remark flying out the window. Tintin was beautiful, and it was about time Alan stopped pretending not to like her. Making a comment that instantly had him and Tintin both blushing, Alan winced and turned to Fermat, who rolled his eyes. The moment was spoiled by Jeff.

"I have an announcement to make," Jeff said, exchanging a secret smile with Brains as the scientist pushed the three teens towards the Tracy patriarch. Alan raised an eyebrow, wondering what was going on. Behind Jeff, Alan could see his brothers lining up and giving him a smile.

"No shortcuts, Alan," Jeff smiled softly at his son. "You earned it."

Alan could hardly dare to believe it when the International Rescue pin was hooked to his shirt. For years he'd struggled to fit in, to be as good as his brothers, and now finally his efforts were being acknowledged. He was a Thunderbird. Everything Alan had ever wanted was coming true right before his eyes.

"Yeah, Sprout!" he heard, and then he was shoved into the pool. His brothers splashed him, and Alan once again was hit with the realization that this was home. There was nowhere else he belonged. He was a Tracy, and he was a Thunderbird. He was finally where he longed to be.

"Boys!" Jeff called, and the Tracy brothers jumped out of the pool as their father explained the upcoming rescue. Normally the Thunderbirds would put their uniforms on in their 'Birds, but this emergency wasn't so bad yet; there was going to be a tsunami, and the Thunderbirds wouldn't be able to do anything until the tsunami actually hit.

"Alan!" Jeff turned to face his youngest son, who had gone to sit on a lounge chair as his brothers made their way inside.

"Yeah, Dad?" he asked, confused.

"Saddle up, kiddo. What are you doing?"

"I thought… but Dad… really?"

Jeff and Brains exchanged a look, before Jeff turned to face Scott, John, Virgil, and Gordon. The four older brothers had all stopped to listen to the exchange between Alan and their father. Looking at each son in turn, Jeff received four nods and four radiant smiles.

"Go on, kiddo, the world's waiting for you."

"FAB, Dad!" Alan sprung up from his seat and rushed to his brothers, who raced him into the house.

"Here, Al," Scott said, tossing an International Rescue uniform to Alan who gaped at it in shock.

"For me?" he asked, unable to come up with anything more intelligent. Scott grinned.

"Hurry up and change, Sprout," the oldest brother ordered. Alan didn't hesitate to do as he was told, emerging from the bathroom three minutes later dressed in his uniform, a grin plastered on his face.

"Looks good, Alan," Scott smiled as he emerged from his room.

"Wow, Sprout!" John agreed.

"We'll make a Thunderbird out of you yet," Virgil said, giving Alan a thumb's up before moving to ruffle Alan's hair.

"My baby brother's all grown up," Gordon pouted, causing everyone to laugh.

"Ready, kids?" Jeff inquired, shooting a look of confidence at his youngest son.

"FAB!" Five voices echoed together. Alan's eyes met Fermat's and Tintin's as his brothers stared at him.

"Thunderbirds are go!"

Alan stepped into his elevator and zoomed down to Thunderbird Two's silo. As he helped Virgil and Gordon go through pre-flight checks, he caught the looks on his brothers' faces and remembered their words from the previous week.

_"'When Alan's ready', we always say, 'It'll be the coolest moment of our lives. The whole family will be together doing this thing, and it will finally be perfect.'" _

Alan smiled. He was truly where he belonged, and there was nowhere else he'd rather be. Everything was perfect. The past had been forgiven. Alan didn't know what the future held, but he did know one thing: he would always be with his family, and as long as he was with his family, everything would always turn out alright.

**The End!**

**Once again, thanks for the response. Please review if you want to. I hope you liked it, and even if you didn't, I sincerely thank you for reading. **


End file.
